On the move again, stealing through the forest, he leaves his shelter and advances through the trees. No one will hear him, no one will see him. There is a heaviness in the air, deep in the thicket he feels the warmth; summer has arrived with a vengeance. Tokala pauses and takes a deep breath. The scent of the lime-tree blossom and winter barley fills the air in the fields over by Markowsken, and already he can smell the lake.
- From The Fatherland Files by Volker Kutscher
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