-I think we have a problem, man.
-What? Why?
-Do you know where we are? Because I do not very much. I think I lost troszku - Hearing this, Mike began frantically looking around the horizon looking for a friend, a flashing, red point. He swore awful resigning from further research. Instead, it drew from his jacket pocket compass wrinkled on the backpack, hand-sketched map. He was quite proud of it, especially since he spent a good few hours odrysowując it with the only surviving copy in the library. He was lucky enough to sit in the darkness of a sealed archive nieruszany practice for several decades.
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