70

“It's just,” I began, choosing my words carefully, “I've only seen this before with fighters in a special condition.

Combat trance. Or frenzy, if you like.

- I'm not a fighter. The boy looked away. - I'm just good at something. Can you get out on the road on your own? I would like to get here.

- To the road?

No. The victory over the hound, the return of the decoration - all this does not cancel the fact of the hunt for me. And in my current state, I suppose even a lame chicken will defeat me.

- Clear. Well, what should I do with you? You can’t leave here, you yourself will definitely die ...

The guy was thinking, and out of the corner of my eye I caught some movement in the seemingly disordered dump of bones. Where a dozen skeletons lay, something moved, forcing them to turn, to line up in some common figure.

- What is it? I interrupted, pointing impolitely at the skeletons.

- It? That's what you did, motherfucker!

— Yes, what have I done?

Yes, cleaning is cancelled. — The boy hurri
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