The thick forest near Curt. Curt.
"How can you all put your fates in the hands of just a man?"
Hava was trying to sweep all the attention of the fellows into his place. He wanted to own them. He wanted them to be responsible to him or say, do whatever he deemed right. That was one of the best feelings to nurse, but his sprung from irritation. Everything he did was always an offshoot of things which were odd.
"What do you know about survival, old man?"
The leader of the group shot at him, doing all his best in avoiding the old man's wrinkled face. He seemed not to have the hormones to tame whatever urge twas.
"How interesting this is turning. Who's older between you and I? Talking about survival."
Hava scorned trying to find his words. The little he had said were a faker skin of his intent. He was baiting the fellow.
The leader of group continued,
"It ain't about age, old man. Use your Uncle Ned; your motherfucking head!"
