"Well, we're hardly the ones to ask, you know. As we said, Aslan is on the move. You can ask him about it when he comes."

"Do you know how we're meant to find him, then? Or is it just a matter of keeping ahead of the White Witch's people until Aslan finds us?"

"Oh, no, he'll meet you at the Stone Table, that's known. You'll have supper with us, of course, but then we can take you along the way."

"Thank you very much for your hospitality."

"Oh! It's no trouble at all, when's the next time I'll be able to feed the Sons of Adam, hmm?"

"Fair enough. Who's Adam, anyway?"

"All right."

"How'd you turn up all this in the middle of an everlasting winter?"

"Oh, the Cornucopia, of course. It's a real blessing in this time of need, the Cornucopia."

"And what is it?"

"...It's a horn that makes food. Sorry, it's surprisingly easy to forget that you're, ah, foreign."

"I'm surprised we speak the same language. Or is that magic?"

"I'm not sure I knew there was another language to speak. But when in doubt, it's like as not something to do with Aslan."

"Seems reasonable," says Mir.

All this talk of Aslan has left Harin feeling somewhere between "better than he's felt in his life" and "full of holes ripped in his heart". He excuses himself quietly and goes to sit on the dam and feel things.

Mir glances after him and wonders about the balance of politeness, appropriateness, and safety concerns. Then he sighs and doesn't follow.

"Is your friend all right? It's awfully cold out there."

"Yeah... do you have a coat or a blanket I could bring him?"

"Oh, we've got blankets aplenty, though my sewing machine's hardly what it once was. I'll show you, you can take one to him. Such a nice boy."

"Thanks very much," says Mir.

Mrs. Beaver bustles along to the linen closet and provides Mir with a downright obnoxiously fluffy blanket. "And it's all warm and dry, so that's well and good. And take up a cup of tea, as well. Or two, one for yourself. And you'd better have some biscuits..." She bustles together a basket for him to bring Harin.

Mir eventually escapes. He goes out to Harin, basket in hand, blanket over arm.

Harin is sitting outside, hugging his knees, and learning the principle that leaving the room when you are upset does not accomplish very much for your emotional state unless someone follows you out.