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Terra, my eight-year-old, tags along behind, making up stories as we wind our way along the trail to Peek-A-Boo Springs. Glamding, who I gather is an elf, seems to be having trouble with goblins.
I drift in and out, from time to time inserting an "uh, huh" while enjoying the sandstone pinnacles, an occasional claret cup cactus in bloom, the trill of a canyon wren.
"So, what do you think Glamding should do, Dad?"
"Um, maybe he should fight him."
"Dad! Glamding is a girl."
"Well ... I meant she should fight him. Elf against goblin."
"Dad!! Buckwart is a dwarf; he's her best friend."
"Ah, yeah, perhaps they should fight them."
"Dad!!! They're trying to help the feather people find a new home."
from a patch of sand—