Bisliev blinked; the sun was unbearable after his time underground.
“Wane gods, that’s bright!” Vakhaev side.
“Better than spending another instant underground.”
“Cliff’s edge, you’ll get no argument here.”
“And,” Bisliev inhaled, completely expanding his chest and flaring his nostrils. “Are those blue cups?
Vakhaev inhaled, “Fire and Steel! Something better.”
Bisliev ignored him. He was bent over in the grass by the side of the road.
“If I never smell another mold or fungus it will be too soon.”
“Wane gods, that’s true. Don’t think I’ll ever be able eat stinky cheese again.”
“Let’s find a lot of beer.”