He felt the powerful muscles of Melynlas moving beneath him, and guided the steed with unaccustomed skill. The stallion responded to this new touch on the reins with mighty bursts of speed, so much so that Lluagor could barely keep pace. Fflewddur shouted for Taran to halt a bit and let them all catch their breath. Gurgi, looking like a windblown haystack, gratefully clambered down, and even Eilonwy gave a sigh of relief. “Since we've stopped,” Taran said, “Gurgi might as well share out some food. But we'd better find shelter first, if we don't want to get soaked.” “Soaked?” cried Fflewddur. “Great Belin, there isn't a cloud in the sky! It's a gorgeous day--- taking everything into consideration.” “If I were you,” Eilonwy advised the puzzled bard, “I should listen to him. Usually, that's not a wise thing to do. But the circumstances are a little different now.” The bard shrugged and shook his head, but followed Taran across the rolling fields into a shallow ravine.
