The drifter grinned as he gave his thorn to the guardian. I will grind him to death he thought. I will.
The guardian took the thorn for a second time. He was speechless as usual. It was the same one that was taken; but now returned.
The drifter grabbed the guardian firmly by the shoulders and whispered “just wait ‘til next time”. The guardian walked away while the drifter stood behind. He’d got his thorn.
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