"Wot'll become of him, I w?onder?" asked Hilder, the new man at Socknersh.The wind would carry him the scent of gorse, like peaches and apricots. There was something in that scent which both mocked and delighted him. It was an irony that the huge couchant beast of Boarzell should smell so sweetsurely the wind should have brought him a pungent ammoniacal smell like the smell of stables ... or perhaps the smell of blood.He sprang to his feet, the mood had passedthe beast of Boarzell had ceased to worry him.
