Mannat returned to the clearing at noon. Raesh dropped him off. Mannat refused his father’s offer to pick him up the next morning. He wanted the opportunity to jog instead. Raesh agreed with him. Mannat couldn’t say goodbye to Pandit, as his friend had gone hunting by the time he left. He left a message with Gande and hoped she would tell him to meet him on the road the next morning.

He wanted to meet Sharmilla by the way, but time was tight, hence he left their conversation for some other day. He wasn’t hesitating to meet her. It just wasn’t the right time to meet her; he had too much on his mind.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?” The Witch’s sharp ear scratching voice pierced right through the calm atmosphere of the clearing. Mannat almost bit his tongue in surprise. She really found the perfect time to sneak up on him that time.

He turned and found her standing between the potato plants. She was checking the plants. Her slouched back made it easier for her to examine the garden variants, though whether it was a product of her age or something else, Mannat couldn’t say.

“Do you have any news worth sharing?” She said.

Mannat saw the chance. His eyes lit up. He really had good news to tell her, but he wanted to show her the taste of her own medicine. He said in excitement, “There is a group of entertainers staying in the town.” The sneer on the Witch’s face deepened – it was the perfect opportunity. He interrupted the Witch and plainly added, “Oh yes, ‘Inspect’ leveled up once while I was away. There’s also that.”

The Witch raised her head as he expected, but looked weirdly at him from head to toe as if he was a foreign animal who had wandered into her garden. She didn’t seem to be regretting anything.

“Anything else?” she asked. There was no rise or fall of emotions in her voice. Seeing that he had nothing more to admit, she disbanded him. “Go on then. Do your work. Don’t be idle.” She shook him off so easily Mannat felt embarrassed. It was like the arrow he fired changed direction midway and stabbed him in the back.

He left her behind dispirited. Inside the hut, the table looked untouched. Everything was in the same place he had left them. Even the pieces of used charcoal sticks that had rolled off from the table were still where they had fallen on the floor. He put the book that the Witch had rented him back on the table and went out.

He was eager to get back into learning. The two quick levels in ‘Inspect’ had him in high spirits. He very much wanted to raise ‘analyze’ by another level, even though he was not close to getting it by a long shot. He had an inkling it would only rise once he gets the hang of the grammar and the sentence structure of his mother tongue. However, Mannat was young, and the young are bold and frivolous.

He left the hut first and went out. He wanted to get through the garden once, gather some roots to cook a non-veg stew and grind Inspect along with it. He had brought enough pig meat and jerky to last him three meals. He wanted to taste the boar, but Gande was slowly cooking it. He would have to wait for a couple more days to get a taste of that. At least the jerky didn’t taste bad.

Gande was giving him a cooked pot of deer meat, but he denied it saying he wanted to learn cooking. Though Pandit mocked for it and asked if he was thinking of becoming someone’s wife, Mannat didn’t give in to his friend’s mother or to his mockery.

It was really his day. First, both he and his father earned skill levels, later he managed to hit nine out of ten times in the garden. The pot was overflowing with roots and potatoes when he finished harvesting. Just a look at the juicy carrots in the pot made his stomach growl in hunger. He put the pot on the fire and then decided to do more; He didn’t feel satisfied. Knowing the vegetables in the garden could grow in as early as a day; Mannat went in and uprooted the whole garden, not to store the roots for later use, but to practice ‘Inspect’.

He would keep a few and take the rest back to the village. The villagers might not take them from the Witch or him, but they shouldn’t have any reason to anger his father or Gande. In the worst case, they could simply distribute them to the people they knew. He was sure the Witch wouldn’t care. He had never seen her eat at all.

He even thought she planted the whole garden for him. It was a silly thought was, but he had come to know her scheming mind pretty well. He believed, there was a huge chance of the thought being true. Now, he really wanted to get the job. His mother was the top priority, but he was interested in the garden on the other side of the pathway. He didn’t think it would be a simple training ground for leveling up ‘Inspect’. It probably was a training ground, but for a job skill that actually had something to do with mana.

If, maybe, probably, he was full of guesses, but had no definite answers.

He put his thoughts on hold when he was in the garden. He didn’t only harvest the roots, but systematically analyzed their growth. He expected the work to overwhelm him, but in reality, he barely filled the bucket. The whole thing weighed approximately fifteen kilograms in the end. He wasn’t getting it back to the village next morning, for sure -- not if he wanted to run all the way, no sir.

The most amusing thing of all was the number of duds or baby carrots he found. Too many. At least a third of the roots were of no use to anyone, person, animal, or rodent. He planted those sorry excuses back in the soil. In the empty places, he bowed seeds, potatoes, and ginger. The more tired he got the lower his efficiency dropped. In the end, sweat was freely dripping from his forehead; it had slathered his naked upper body like a layer of oil. His legs were shaking, and finally, weakness overwhelmed him. He continued working in the garden for a little longer, but a string of failures forced him to take a break. He’d done enough for one day.

He had started purely guessing at the end and stopped using the skill. That was his downfall. It would have been tragic if he were in a war somewhere; thankfully, he was only pulling carrots in a well-hidden garden in the forest.

Mannat spent two hours there, half an hour of which he took to had lunch. The soup was good as usual, but the meat was unbearably chewy. He shouldn’t have boiled the pig meat. Thank god, the raven arrived while he was eating and he managed to dispose of -- feed her the meat.

It kept eyes on him while he took a bath in the open, and then followed him inside the hut. It didn’t try to get close to Mannat though. Perhaps, it was the soap.

Mannat pulled the chair back and took a seat. The raven also took perch on the stand, right behind his back. Perhaps, he was being delusional. Mannat felt her staring at his back and it made him uncomfortable. She had never been so aggressive before. What changed? He turned upon the chair to face her and asked, “Why are you being like that today?”

She snarled in response and Mannat understood that something was annoying her and she was in a bad mood.

“You don’t want to talk to me and neither do it. However, I can’t focus if keep staring at me like that. I don’t want you behind me.” The scratches it had given him had faded, but he hadn’t forgotten the evening he had received them. She had attacked him. The raven had not pulled back her claws; she wasn’t scared of drawing his blood. If a situation like that arose again, the red-eye beast was sure to attack him. What would he do if the raven hurt his eye or other sensitive organs? Whom would he blame? That’s why Mannat didn’t want to take the chance.

The raven was after all only a bird, or too lazy to move, and didn’t oblige to his request. It kept to its stand and relentlessly stared at Mannat. Eventually, Mannat changed seat. He took his chair –yes, he was obsessive-- and for the first time since he had taken over the hut, sat on the other side of the table.

It wasn’t a good seat.

The light from the window was glaring, the scenery outside was distracting, and his bedding was now in his line of sight. The raven was also there and staring directly at him. However, he stuck to his decision and didn’t move back. At least the bird wouldn’t be able to surprise him.

He worried at first for the seat change to affect his study, but all the distracting thoughts evaporated from his mind once he focused upon the book. Night had fallen outside when he raised his head up. Who knows when the raven vanished, but it was not around. It did leave him a speckled white gift on the floor, which he had to clean before it left a permanent mark of its existence on the wood. It was not even his place. He didn’t understand why he was so eager to keep the hut clean, but he did it without grumbling, and then made himself carrot soup.

The clearing looked marvelous at night. He couldn’t figure why none of the villagers talked about this view and the glowing tree. It could be that none had ever ventured out in the night to find the Witch –it was impossible. Perhaps the tree itself was the reason why parents advised their kids to not venture close to the Witch’s place at night. Mannat thought it was highly probably to be the real reason.

“Perhaps, all of this is just an illusion created by the Witch to fool me.” He couldn’t help thinking about such things. Though he stayed busy, there was no denying that he was alone there. The raven and the Witch were like the wind that comes and goes. Only he was permanent.

He left the hut when the night darkened and went to the tree. The Witch’s staff was still in its usual place. It hadn’t been moved since the last time the Witch used it to open the underground garden. Like every night, Mannat approached the staff, stopped in front of it, placed his hand on its crystal head, and tried to rejuvenate it. It didn’t even make a firefly glow, much less do the unthinkable.

He didn’t dally around it much longer, went forward, and took a seat under the tree with his back resting against its trunk. He closed his eyes and shoved his thoughts to the back of his mind. He sat cross-legged and tried to sense the mana bubbling inside the gigantic container behind him.

He could easily sense the rich energy in the air. Mana enveloped the tree in a thin layer of warmth, as it did everything else from grass to people –including him. He could sense that cover of mana, but inside that layer was a void where his sense couldn’t penetrate. However, he wasn’t in a hurry. He had to stay calm if he wanted to sense mana. Patience and persistence were the only keys to the world inside the void.

He was sure he would feel foolish the day he did learn the trick to it, but for now, it was the most difficult task on his plate.

He didn’t stay there all night, of course. At midnight, he went back to sleep inside the hut like a good boy.

He woke up with the birds the next morning. Outside, the sky was still dark and the wind cold. He got up and made his bed, then was about to leave when he saw the Witch sitting on the chair. She was staring at him with her big yellow eyes. He jumped to his feet with a start, his heart ready to burst. She was an eerie sight in the day, but at night, she was horror incarnate. Sleep left him and he was wide-awake.

“What do you want?” He said. The voice that came out of his throat was not pretty to hear either. It sounded like he was choking.

The Witch ignored his questions. “Why did you wake up so early?” She chirped. “Are you going back to the village again?”

“Yes. Do you want something?” He said noncommittally. Who knew the Witch would really ask for his help!

“I want you to hunt me a rabbit.” She said and Mannat‘s ears perked up. That was odd. Why would she want a—and then he remembered the rumors about the sacrifice. His blood curled with the thought, but her next words slashed his fantasies and came directly for his jugular.

“I want you to catch and kill the rabbit living in Sardar’s fields.”

It was over.

Who was Sardar? He was none other than Sharmilla’s grandfather!

There he was running away –not true—from their family, and here the Witch was sending him straight to their den.

She was pitting him over something he didn’t understand. Her words repeated endlessly in his head. She was deliberately sending him to his death, Mannat believed so. He doubted he had any privacy in front of her. Perhaps, until he learned to patch his mana leaks he would always be under her sight, no matter where he went. The sad thing about it was that he couldn’t even tell if she was keeping watch on him or not. She probably was. He used to get shivers from other's attention but felt nothing with her. He couldn’t figure whether he had progressed or regressed in his training.

Mannat sighed and solemnly asked, “Did I offend you in any way?”

“Why do you ask?”

“…Because you are sending me to my death,” Mannat said. Understanding he had no secrets from her he could only admit the truth, and it took great courage for him to speak it out loud. “I can’t meet the old man, not now.”

The Witch snorted. “This matter is more important than your farmer girl.” She said nonchalantly. Mannat was offended. His nerves were already taut in this matter. Who told her to pluck his strings?

“Do you want it for a sacrifice?” He snapped and the song that came out of his was full of anger. He wanted to confront the Witch, but her reply clipped his newborn wings.

“Don’t you feel it?”

Annoyed he said, “Feel what?”

However, the Witch didn’t tell him. “You should hurry.” She said. “It will hide after sunrise. And take someone with you, someone who knows how to hunt rabbits.”

Mannat wasn’t in the mood to bring the roots to the village. He would ask his father to accompany him later to get them.

Maybe not, he mumbled after thinking about it a little. The Witch was acting weird. He worried catching the rabbit won’t be as simple as he was imagining. His father would needlessly worry if he found out about it.

He could imagine what his father would say. It would be something like, ‘She asked you to catch a rabbit today, and perhaps it’ll be a wolf tomorrow. What will you do then?’

He would say no.

He didn’t know what time it was when he left the clearing, but the sky was still dark when he reached the village. He had run as fast as he could, but at least 45 minutes must have elapsed since he started. This was it for his workout.

Entering the village at this time was especially odd. It wasn’t daytime, but there were already some people up on the streets. Some women were taking their kids to the fields, while a few men sat on the roadside and watched him as he passed by. The sky was still dark, but he didn’t see any lanterns glowing in the dark. Thankfully, there was a full moon that night and it was still bathing the world in calm blue light. He would have had some difficulty navigating the streets without its help.

He ran all the way and only stopped at Pandit’s door. He knocked twice and waited for him to show up. He had to wait a while. Mannat’s breathing and heart rate were back to normal by the time Pandit finally showed up at the door.

He came out yawning and rubbing his eyes. “Who is it--” he was saying then saw Mannat at the door and changed the question. “What are you doing here?”

He looked at the dark sky and frowned. “Do you know what time it is? I thought you weren’t coming--” He noticed how drenched Mannat’s shirt was and his frown deepened. “Did you take a shower before coming here?” He said, unable to make the head meet the toe.

“I ran,” Mannat plainly replied.

“…from the clearing?” That was much further than the distance they usually jogged. Gande had given him Mannat’s message. The boy had asked him to meet him on the road. So why was he at his door, drenched in sweat, before sunrise? Pandit’s hunter instinct told him something was wrong. The boy looked to be in a hurry. “What’s wrong?” Pandit whispered. He didn’t know why he did it, but that’s how his voice came out.

“I need your help,” Mannat said and all sleep vanished from Pandit’s eyes.

“Tell me,”

“I need to meet Sardar--” Mannat tried explaining, but Pandit interrupted him.

“Go get some sleep. Gosh. I heard people go crazy in love, but I never thought you would be one of them.” Pandit shook his head. “The Witch has really changed you.”

Mannat didn’t explain. He stood expressionlessly and stared at his hopeless friend.

Pandit couldn’t figure out what to do. On one hand, he wanted to go back to bed, on the other hand, his love-stuck friend wanted his help. He could only sigh and move on. “Do we have to do it now?”

“Yes,” Mannat said. “And bring your hunting tools,”

“Hunting tools, check. What about a net and rope?” Pandit asked holding such a serious expression that Mannat believed he was asking for the job. Then he thought about traps and agreed.

Pandit’s face instantly turned pale.

He held Mannat shoulder and said looking into his foolish friend’s vibrant green eyes, “Are we really kidnapping Sharmilla?”

Mannat snarled and pushed the damned rascal back. Since Pandit was stronger, he only took a step back. ‘What did I do?’ he gestured with his hands causing Mannat to sigh in disappointment.

“There has to be something wrong with you,” Mannat said. “Just to be clear… we are going hunting.”

“Hunting for what?”

Mannat paused, wondering what to say, then realized there was nothing to hide.

“Rabbits,” He said.

As for whether the Witch’s rabbit was also something white, small, and fluffy, they would know once they get there.

Pandit took some time to gather his things. He was quiet and meticulous so that others wouldn’t wake up. He didn’t want Gande on their tail, asking questions they would have a tough time answering. Mannat helped carry some of the stuff and they ran to the old farmer’s fields. He briefed Pandit on the way, and his friend finally took a breath of relief. He might know a few things about trapping rabbits, but he was really a beginner at trapping girls.

The stars had dimmed and disappeared in the sky by the time they reached the place. The world was starting to brighten. Mannat wanted to meet the old man before going through his fields, but time was tight and his heart was worried. The Witch had told him the rabbit would go in hiding after sunrise. It could mean many things; Mannat believed she wanted him to catch the rabbit before it hides.

They had less than an hour of time, and two major problems to deal with. First, there was wheat planted in the fields. As for the second problem -- Mannat stopped on the road and gazed around. The old man’s land went endlessly in all directions.

“So how do you want to do it?” Mannat said.

Pandit gave him a sharp stare. ‘You are an idiot.’ it was supposed to be saying. Soon, he was shaking his head and sighing.

“If you want to catch it before sunrise then there really is no way to do it. We would have to look for it ourselves.”

Mannat nodded. He said, “Then you go that way and I’ll go—“

“Stop.” Pandit raised his hands to show he was not kidding. “A rabbit is, after all, a burrowing animal.” He said slowly, trying to remember what his father had taught him about catching rabbits. “It won’t be in the muddy fields. It needs dry soil to create a burrow. We can try finding a dry, uncultivated patch of land. If the Witch is right, that is where we’ll find it.”

Mannat listened, and then the two started searching for an uncultivated piece of land. Their hunt was fruitless, a total failure. The red sun slowly rose in the sky and the night vanished, along with their chance of finding the rabbit. They met again on the road with their feet covered in mud.

“Did you find anything?” Pandit asked, Mannat shook his head.

“What about you?”

“Me neither. I didn’t want to say this, but I think you should talk to Sardar.”

“And what do you want to talk about?”

The two jumped to their feet and turned around in fright. The old man stood behind them, squinting and looking over them. His eyes stopped on their mud-covered feet for a few seconds before returning to their faces. He was leaning on his staff, ready to send them back to their maker.

He raised the staff to put it over his shoulder when suddenly a shriek came from the sky. He looked up and noticed something diving toward him at a brisk pace. The old man’s eyes flashed with murder. He waited for it to reach him and swung the staff with enough velocity to make the air rip and tear. He missed, and the beast zoomed past him by flying over his head. It was a blackbird, a raven. It did a rollback to decrease its speed and landed straight on Mannat’s head. The sight scared the old man and Pandit both, while the bird opened its wings three feet side and let out another horrible shriek. The raven stared at the old man with her piercing red eyes. Even Mannat was agitated as its sharp talons dug into his scalp and took hold of his skull.

“Don’t move!” Mannat hurriedly yelled when he saw Pandit and the old man both vying to save him from the bird. “It’s alright,” he said as the raven sensed the atmosphere and tensed her grip on his skull. “I know her,”

“You know this beast?” Pandit exclaimed. He was not convinced.

“It’s not a beast. It’s the Witch’s raven.”

“The witch’s raven!” It was Sardar this time. The old man suddenly grew serious. He took the staff with both hands and got on his haunches, ready to spring forward at any moment.

Mannat frowned at their reactions. Perhaps, he shouldn’t have given the bird a title.

Pandit nervously looked at the two and groaned. “I don’t feel so good anymore.” He said letting out a burp. “Can you ask it to leave?”

Mannat also wanted the same. “Put away your weapons.” He told them. “Especially you,” he pushed Pandit back with one hand. The boy had a goddamn cleaver out in his hands; it worried Mannat more than the bird – he’d rather the raven take his eye than to be mistakenly beheaded.

“Don’t threaten her and she’ll fly away. I think.” Mannat’s experience told him the raven was intelligent and wouldn’t needlessly hurt him. She had not attacked him after the first evening, and that was a result of his mistake. He wouldn’t have gotten hurt if he had taken the Witch’s word a bit more seriously.

Pandit and the old man shared a glance and made a tactical retreat. They moved far enough to be of no threat to Mannat or the raven, and gently put their weapons on the road. She saw their actions, released a shriek in a show of dominance, folded her wings, and jumped to the ground. She didn’t take off, instead took guard in front of Mannat.

“That’s cute,” Pandit coughed. Sardar, on the other hand, stared solemnly at Mannat. He knew about the boys deal with the Witch – the whole village did. He wasn’t angry at Mannat. The boy had shown great courage by agreeing to the Witch’s condition. Not everyone has the strength to stand straight in face of a storm. However, Sardar had to break his little girl’s heart and it made him sad. Sharmilla was still not talking to him. He had been waiting for Mannat to meet him, which he would if he really wanted to marry his girl, but he didn’t expect this situation. What were the two boys doing in his fields? Friend of the family or not, he wouldn’t be polite if the two couldn’t give him a proper explanation.

“Now…” The old man said, “Tell me what you both are doing here so early in the morning. Don’t lie, tell me the truth.”

“You are not going to tell us to leave?” Pandit exclaimed. He really thought their adventure was over. For a young, still green hunter like him, what else could hunting be other than an adventure?

The old man ignored him; he had his eyes set on Mannat.

Pandit noticed the sparks rising and wanted to intervene, but remembered when last year someone tried to sabotage the old man’s crop out of spite and got sense beaten into him. Sardar wasn’t fragile as his thin appearance might let know. Thinking so, Pandit crossed his arms and silently kept to the side. He’d let Mannat handle this problem. Speaking wasn’t his strong suit.

“The witch sent me,” Mannat said. The old man’s face first hardened, and then a sense of disappointment replaced it. Pandit noticed his shifting emotions and so did Mannat. The latter even noticed a hint of anger from the way the man clenched his five-foot-long staff. The stick looked to have seen better days, but it sat firmly in the old man’s hand. He definitely knew how to use that thing.

“Then I don’t want to hear anything else from you.” The old man said firmly. “Go back, and don’t ever return again.”

Mannat didn’t mince words, either; he could see the man had grievances with him.

“There is a beast roaming in your fields,” Mannat said and Pandit’s eyes lit up. Of course! The man might not agree if they said it was a rabbit, but a beast…

His friend might not know much about relationships, but he sure knew how to face pressure. Way to go bother. Pandit mentally raised two thumbs to Mannat.

The old man hesitated. “Are you talking about her?” He pointed the stick at the raven, but the bird was not scared and stared back with her beady red eyes.

Pandit nodded, agreeing. “It sure looks eerie.” They ignored him again, causing him to purse his lips in sadness.

“She didn’t tell me the details,” Mannat said. “Only told me to hurry up and kill it.”

The old man didn’t agree or disagree right away, but looked at him, watched him. He wanted to figure out the truth behind his words but was disappointed as Mannat maintained the same bored and stiff stature throughout.

Seeing that Mannat was a dead end, the old man turned toward Pandit. “You tell me the truth? Are you here for mischief?”

Pandit clicked his tongue. “Now you want to talk to me? Well, I have nothing to add. It’s exactly what he told me. And I believe him.”

“Do you?” The old man questioned. He wasn’t convinced. He saw the traps, ropes, and cages the two carried. There was nothing indicating that they were lying. He could ignore them; however, the crops belonged to the whole village. Many people's livelihood depended on a good harvest. There was also the count to consider.

Eventually, he sighed and decided to listen to them. He had met many kinds of people in life. Some like to steal, others lie to hide, but he had never met anyone lying to stay at the scene of the crime. All try to make an exchange and leave as quickly as possible. Many such people had met the long side of his staff. The boys… he could only blame himself for growing soft over the years. Age does it to you. One either grows stubborn with age, or they become open-minded. He was glad to be the latter.

He raised his sight to the blue sky behind the two boys. The sun would be up in a few minutes and people would come out of their houses to begin a new day.

“We should hurry,” he said. “Let’s find your beast.”

If there was nothing then it was only a wasted few minutes, but if there was actually something, then…

“What are we looking for?” The old man asked.

Mannat again took lead. “It should be one of the burrowing kinds. I was told it would only appear at night and hide after sunrise.” He looked east. The sky was red and brightening with each passing second, but the sun hadn’t risen yet. They still had time.

“Say, did you notice anything strange around your land?” Pandit asked. “Something like footprints, shedding, eaten crops… or burrows?”

Suddenly the old man stopped walking. The two boys shared a glance: They had something.

“What is it?” Mannat asked.

The old man looked east. “Burrows,” He admitted.

“Take us,” Pandit said, suddenly excited. The old man looked across at him. He wanted to give the boy a tap on the back, but sighed and led the way.

Behind them, the raven also took flight.

Sardar was only accompanying them to see what they wanted to do. He never thought the two would actually lure him into their play. He was getting old. They walked on the embankment made to hold water and divide the fields into smaller sectors.

There were bugs in the fields and Mannat had a tough time concentrating. He walked at the back. Seeing that his companions were unperturbed by the same problem, he could only bury the discomfort inside his heart. He would have asked Pandit for a fix if they were alone, but he didn’t want to show weakness in front of the old man. He still had to talk to the man about Sharmilla and their engagement.

In a way, the task was bridging the distance that had opened up between them. Mannat wasn’t sure of the Witch’s intentions, but he was in her debt.

Soon, they were near the lone tree, but they didn’t approach it. They turned east some distance from it. Pandit released a long-drawn-out breath when he saw the tree disappearing behind them. It would have been awkward if the rabbit were there.

They went east and continued walking until the tree was barely visible from their position. Suddenly, a chill shook Mannat from head to toe. He almost fell in the muddy field, and barely managed to keep his feet on the embankment. It wasn’t the wind; there was no wind. The temperature, however, had definitely dropped by a few degrees. Mannat believed so, but neither his breath became foggy, nor did others react to the sudden cold. Was it because of his low constitution? Or was it something that only he could feel?

Suddenly the old man spoke. “You said the beast only appears at night. Then how are you going to catch it in the day?”

“We can dig the hole. If the Witch is right…” Pandit said and his face scrunched up. He instantly regretted it. He glanced at the old man and saw him looking dissatisfied. Mannat on the other hand seemed lost in thoughts.

He coughed twice and cleared his throat before laying his thoughts out. “I think it’ll be much easier to catch it while it’s hiding underground. What do you think?” Pandit asked.

The old man ignored him, and Mannat was unusually quiet.

Pandit shook him from the shoulder. “What’s wrong with you?”

Mannat raised his head and looked at him. His face was pale and his hands were shivering. There was fear in his eyes. He was going to reply when the old man suddenly stopped walking and started talking. The two looked at each other, then looked past the man, then looked back at each other and saw the horror in their eyes.

“Did you say you want to dig the burrow?” the old man sneered. “Get to work then.”

Beyond the old man was a couple of hectares of barren land, and uncountable holes had turned it useless. They made the land look like the surface of the moon that coincidently also appears only at night.