1: So, it seems like we could talk for a while about this, couldn't we...
Travelers stand in absolute silence.
1: At the very least, we are in agreement about the beginning, right? We know that it starts with soldiers, and marches, and the sounds of exercise, and feet on cobblestones...
2: We know that there is a forest, filled with light from above. Frosted, as they say, with snow. A canopy of trees over-head.
Travelers [thinking aloud]: What should we do with his head?
1: Maybe we should bury it? At the base of this tree? You know the saying, "A grandfather's head is a hard thing to be rid of."
2: We know that this sort of trial, this sort of experiment, has its limits...
3: But its limits are only the limits of conversation, of object, of language-in-looking. So long as we avoid those, and stay to the edges, we should be fine. I know a secret path through the forest, which follows the run of the road, but out of its sight.
2: The light from above is shifting and unsteady.
1: Will and courage, good people!
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