The air is filled with a suffocating, sweet odor of rot.

"Who are you?"

The woman is wearing a heavy, ruined coat. Her voice is suppressed by the cracked gas mask she's wearing.

"Can't you speak? Did someone take away your voice?"

Two children hide behind the woman. The younger one eyes you nervously, cowering in fear. The older one just stands there, motionless.

"You're not from around here. I would have recognized you. We may keep to ourselves, but I know everyone here. I would never forget your mug."

The younger child pierces you with its eyes. The steamed visor of his gas mask betrays his rapid breath.

"Your gob looks like that because of this fiendish air, do you know? I bet you can't speak, because you didn't keep your mouth shut when walking through the woods. The trees and plains are simply beautiful here, and the bushes bloom gorgeously this time of year, but don't let the charm of this land deceive you. The devil lurks between the trees and he gets to you through your mouth and nose."

The older child's grasp on his mother's hand tightens. He does not lift his gaze from one of the hut's walls.

"And? You're just going to stand there? I know you want something, you leper demon. You're not getting anything from us. I don't trust you, leper gob, do you hear me?! I don't trust anyone who breathes this filthy air."

The woman stares at you intensely through the cracked mask.