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"Being a squad leader is no easy task..." Zeikin thought, but he decided not to say anything aloud.
"Don't be so gloomy, buddy," he clapped Joe on the shoulder as he walked away. "Asceticism strengthens the spirit, and small joys after abstinence turn into great ones. If the Lady provides, we'll sort things out tomorrow; she'll be running after you and pouring drinks, one after another. And if not, I'll get you some myself. It's a boss's job to show his teeth; it's not up to us to understand what's going on in their heads, and arguing and getting upset is only harmful. Here, take these to calm your nerves," he handed his comrade a few cigarettes.
Having done his best to cheer up his friend, Dorobo spent the rest of the evening cleaning and repairing his weapons and equipment after the day's battle – wiping off blood and dirt, patching up holes, and hammering out dents in his armor.
Having finished these pressing tasks, he sighed heavily, rolled up his sleeves, and stared at his calloused hands for a while, wondering whether it was worth washing them first, or whether it was a pointless exercise, as he would have to repeat it later.
"Drinking, hanging out... and I'm the only one who has to suffer for a whole week. There's no justice in this world..."
"Heh. But I did a good job cutting that bastard down," switching to a more cheerful thought, the mercenary smiled, then got up energetically and headed for his pre-sleep chores: the sooner you start, the sooner you finish.
