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During her break, Radichka dreamed again of the fox from yesterday's dream, but this time the mustachioed creature wasn't standing on her neck; instead, it was plunging its hand into her throat, as if it were a bottomless box or bag. It was about to push its faithful limb into her up to her shoulder, but that wasn't meant to happen – a grim northerner riddled with crossbow bolts took its head off before that could occur. Waking up from her dreams, the dreamer decided that she should start writing them down, so that she could later publish them in the form of an engaging story or a collection of fairy tales.