By the bonfire, a gaunt zombie sat, its soulless crimson eyes staring at the two of them. It seemed as if the roles of host and guest were reversing at this moment, until a voice rang out in Lena's ear.
·Thin-skinned humans, greetings.
"Psychic!" Anna stepped back.
Lena took two steps forward: "You're not a zombie; stop playing games."
·No, thin-skinned humans, I indeed am a zombie. This is the hundred and something winter I've seen in this world spoken of in the book, and the first time in forty years since I've seen humans who are not my kind in this city devoid of outsiders.
The zombie seemed to think the shock wasn't enough and raised its left hand—on which only the pinky, index finger, and thumb remained.
"You... you are a zombie?" Anna turned to look at her master: "Anna, this..."
"Perhaps we can communicate." After Anna said this, she turned her head to Kunta: "Kunta, have you seen this creature before?"
·I have, it is also an Apprentice of the Mentor, Mr. Kunta.
