But we wanted to be sure." You may indeed not be suitable for him," Jarrah said sniffing back her own tears. "You're probably much too good for him." ...o, no, you don't understand!" Lavender broke in. She then went on to tell her tale to them as they hung on her every word in silence. When she was done she waited for the inevitable explosion of revulsion she knew was going to follow. She was not disappointed, just baffled."That's disgusting!" Grotesque!" Inhuman!" You poor thing!" You ... you. A shard of wood had gone through the right sideof his chest, just below his shoulder. Smoke and sawdust filled hisevery breath, and he hacked out blood.And then he saw the boy.He was blood-soaked and skinny, about 16 or 17, with a short red mohawkon his head and a landmine strapped to his chest (although the thinglooked too rusted to be any good). Grenades were attached the belt thatwas holding up his leather shorts. Even with filthy, bare feet, hedidn't seem to mind that he was standing on. More

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