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“…Like he took my bed?” The Wildman was responding to Cob, who had a thick, dirty
rope coiled across his shoulder.
“I was just trying it out?” Gob defended himself.
“Trying it out my shit! - You've been trying out my last three beds! - Staining them with
smells of black mud and dry shit!” He shouted at him without looking back; the others laughing
lightly as they walked out the thick vegetation onto a highly raised ridgeline - high above the
green covering all around.
“It's not like I mean to?”
“Yeah? Explain to me Gob? You want to honestly say that you just, find yo urself,
sleeping on my hides! My beds!”
“Gob!” He threatened without looking back at him.
“What? I'm just talking?” He defended himself.
“What if you teach him to make hides?” Cob intervened.
“What are you, insane! Want me to teach this Gob?” The Wildman questioned.
“Yeah, I mean, instead of cutting his head off?” Cob suggested.
“You're all crazy!” The Wildman concluded as they descended the ridge towards the
other side - which was covered with short, well-spaced trees.
Inside the trees, the other trolls were still hunting. And Gob, who was carrying his kill,
was walking into a small clearing where the Wildman was waiting. In front of a rock inside the
clearing stopped and stood - staring at the Wildman.
“Don't just stand there and look at me?” The Wildman observed.
“What do I do?” Gob asked without a care of the Wildman's tone.