80

Despite the strong gusty wind, the day promised to be hot. A wave of heat persistently crawled along the heated forest floor and shamelessly descended into the lowland, completely open to the sun's rays. The wind rustled in the tops of young pines, and hot streams persistently slid through the needles, reaching the lower branches.

And before his eyes was not a forest, a cloud of haze rippled and spread in his eyes, steps on the hot sand more and more turned into torture. The air trembled with haze, spreading in thousands of images that were born in the mirror walls of the rocks. He froze in place, letting the heat gnaw at his feet, straightened up, squared his shoulders, looked at the distant gap in the entrance to the cave. The gaze clearly singled out the silhouettes of figures frozen on the border of darkness and light. They were waiting for him, but there was something wrong with this expectation. Sarshi are nocturnal creatures, and from the reflection in the rocks it was the sars