<b>''Gracie?''<br/>
<br/>
''Du yuo vunt sume-a ooff my buuze-a? I steell gut inuoogh fur us  inside-a thees buttle. It is eboot time-a ve-a found us suum shelter, I du nut like-a zeesa sherp rucks mooch. Iff zee munsters vun't greb us zonight one of zees  deys, zee razurblade cleeffffs veell.''</b><br/><br/>Syrie sat back against a rather blunt part of a rock and sunk down onto the ground. She had not lied about needing a drink. The once gorgeous and flirty looking woman, looked nothing like herself anymore. Her clothes were ragged and torn, just like the others. She had bound strips after strips together to cover up the naked parts of her skin against the sharp edges of the stones, but nevertheless she had been cut several times on her shapely legs.<br/><br/>With a glittering desire in her eyes, Syrie watched the nebuyian girl fill up her pot with water.<br/><br/><b>''Vhy can't vee build-a boot and sail-a of zees ztream? I vet zee ocean doesn't have any zentacles in zhem. Vee could vind ourzelves an izland or zomething. Or go back zoo Russia, ve vould be zafe in Russia. Zhose horrid vhings would freeze zo death zhere! ''</b><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>