“Do not worry; the street is full, you should not be surprised”, the old man said patiently.

“Poor boy. He was young”, the man with the jovial voice said, now a little sad, complaining. “He would be about fifteen years old. But in the misfortune he was still lucky, look”. It was silent for a second, while the others approached.

“A knock in the head. True, he is lucky. It did not give him time to lose his temper, at least not at all. Compared to the dead outside, he seems to have had a quick death. Although he had his face covered, right?”. A moment of silence. “He was not alone when he died. With a bit of luck, he has not had to endure the loss of loved ones, even though I do not think they have survived. But it is still weird…”

“What?”, Puppy intervened a little more now, seeing that he was not saying anything.

“No, that this guy died pretty late than the others. With the heat during the day you have already seen what state they are in. He died a few hours ago, half a day at most. He has come here to find his death. There is no way a person can survive that gas…”

“To all this, what the hell is this gas? How the fuck did Qüida know what there was in this town?”, Puppy asked.

“You ask a lot of questions to be the first time you go out to do a recognition, huh?, the young man came out with, leaving Puppy with his questions in his mouth. “When I started doing recognitions, I had to go after everything and carry other people’s things! You are lucky, moron!”, he joked.

Nayla was listening, but understood nothing of what they were saying. A gas, a puppy… Could dogs talk?

"You are a drama queen", the old man said, laughing. “When you started you went with me and we had enough work for you to stand still. Every two or three days we had to get you out of the mess you got into since you ignored us!

“Eh! Do not undermine me in front of him!”, he exclaimed trying to be offended, but without being able to avoid that his laughter escaped. “By the way”, he suddenly changed the subject “Where is Dion? Had he not come with us?”

Nayla was sitting on the stairs. She did not know what to do, whether to go out or continue there. She was listening, distracted, to what the men were saying. After all, she had nothing else to do either.

"True," the old man replied. “But you know how he is. When we entered the village, he turned left into the first alley and I still have not seen him again. He will appear. He is the one about whom we should care the least. Plus, we should be in a hurry. If we are not back on the farm before the maximum approach, I will not be the one to hold Qüida’s horses”, he said in a calm but stern voice.

“You are right. Puppy, close the boy’s eyes, so that he can rest in peace”.

“What!?”, he was horrified. “H… How do you want me to close his eyes! He is dead!”

The man with the jovial voice sighed deeply and loudly.

"You are too considerate of him," the old man said. “You should have forced him”.

“With the times running he will have enough time to get used to the dead. You should not forget that I was like him in the beginning”.

Everyone fell silent at once. Nayla turned in a start. A wooden step behind her had creaked hard. A tall man, dressed in leather clothes, with badly-cut black hair, his face half-covered with a beige handkerchief, stared at her with brown eyes and orange pupils…