“Flora are plants and fauna are animals,” Kors interjected with an explanation.
“So what? Will he study animals?”
“And were they caught? Have you got the bear?” Kors asked.
“Yes,” Nikto nodded. “The unclean ones caught everyone, and put them in cages again. The unclean ones easily found them, they seem to smell them.”
“Well, that's understandable,” said Kors.
“So what are you going to do with the bear?” Nikto continued, looking at Lis. “Why study it? To train? If it doesn’t work out with the throne, will you be a wandering artist, driving around cities with a trained bear? Will you arrange performances?”
Nikto looked at Lis with a grin, expecting his reaction, and he froze for a second, trying to cope with it, and then answered calmly:
“Yes, of course, I will lose the army, I will command the bear. I'll paint my face like a jester, I'm no stranger, and I'll be a wandering artist. Can you borrow a bell into the nose?”
“Lis…” Nikto hesitated. “If we don’t win, it seems to be useful to me. Excuse me for screwing you up.”
“It's all right,” said Lis.
Kors looked at them very seriously: both Lis and Nikto looked somehow unkempt, tortured. Lis was a little over thirty, and Nikto was even less, but the expression of their faces… Both of them were very scarred, broken, it was clear that they had gone through a lot – with a clear imprint of fatigue, they evoked ambiguous feelings. Lis would probably say they looked fucked up. Kors thought that this obscene word, unfortunately, fit perfectly there. He himself, although he was older, but his tongue didn’t turn to say that he “could be their father” – so impeccable Kors looked, well-groomed, taking care of himself and his appearance, a worthy representative of the true black race. A beautiful, clean face, without a single scar. The prideful posture of the born master was complemented by obviously tastefully selected expensive clothes.
“What kind of mood are you in?” He said. “If we don’t win… but what should I do then?”
“You will teach the bear decency,” Lis smiled sadly.
“It would be better if you take less of your… hmmm… “restoratives” and alcohol, it's scary to look at you.”
“Kors, I said to teach the bear, not us!” Lis coughed.
“Alis, are you sick? What happened to you? Do you have tuberculosis?”