“Sha, Hunters!” Someone’s voice carried over the noise.
The crowd dispersed. An older man was making his way towards Anna. He wore a green snorkel parka, the same type her coach had, except extremely worn out and soiled. He came close, squinting and wincing, as if with a toothache. He stretched his hand to Anna, and, for some reason, she couldn’t move away. The man put his palm on Anna’s forehead, pushed back slightly and looked her straight in the eyes. The eyes in his rough face were green, like spring grass.
‘The gang boss,’ thought Anna, about to faint. Everything was turning red before her eyes, and she clearly felt a taste of blood in her mouth from her bit lip. The last thing she saw was a shiny bracelet with a jingle bell charm on his dirty wrist. Then she heard a husky voice.
“Skiers, this is not a shapeshifter wyssun.”