Zana from Tehina
Abkhaz a century old... the Entire twentieth century, a brilliant blood-red scales that ran before their eyes like a pleasure ship. They were already old when the hand of the madman pointed to the Winter Palace, they were still alive when the tanks of the emergency Committee fought helplessly at the closed door of a bygone era. From the dark corners of their sockets, buried in a lush bloom of arcs, lightning rushed past days. If you ask these mumbled, toothless mouths speak, utter, pronounce, taunt, reward, branded, curse, whip, compose, stretching the truth. They've seen too much — these hundred years, the Abkhaz elderly.They were free, for the rein tight in the Kremlin, weakened to the East of Abkhazia, and clawed the Soviet government was powerless carapella ancient customs, not daring to ask for more. They were free, because the monument to Lenin did not rise above the middle of cypress. The Soviet authorities, sweating, dragging a new baggage of life in the mountains, but the mountains looked upon these attempts indifferently, arrogantly, when the Soviet authorities broke down. There, in the mountains, she broke down a lot faster than tanks of the emergency Committee ran into the closed doors of a bygone era.
Ask them to share, and greed, plain old greed up conversations will make themselves know. They'll tell you something that can never be. They will remember the nineteenth century as if it were yesterday. They'll spin you silly, and you'll eat those calories tales like cake after a scant meal of enlightened skepticism. Among other things they told the story of Zane from the Tahini.
It was a long time ago. So long ago that the oldest of the living, caught her, died when Leonid Brezhnev. Prince Achba went hunting. That you put on rubber boots, go out sometimes in a dull, damp forest, and the gloomy shadows lurking in the thicket, consoling themselves with the simple means of warming. When Achba went hunting, in the neighborhood rang the barking of hounds, and the advanced cavalry were trailing the army of workers, raising the dust of the road for miles.
Here you are, pathetic little people of our time, hungry budget the mercy of the electoral foe, work, probably, there are different bureaus and anxiously glancing at the figures for economic growth? Fat Prince Achba never looked. He was a ruler of Abkhazia, and in these virgin woods, knew neither grimaces progress, nor fickle fortune exchanges, well-being sparkled with centuries-old permanence.
Guns scoured the sky of falcons and hawks. They drove on in search of tours and bears. Fat Prince Achba scoured along with all in a dense environment of true Circassian: l do not know him, that were carried out in the native lands? But he was not looking out for the bear and not the tour, it was cold and the birds. It was rumored that seen here, wild man, and not man, even as bipedal creatures.
Less than an hour like a dark, agile figure of the unknown fiends of nature flashed in front of the astonished faces and disappeared in the thicket. Then thought again. Guns and traps was powerless against her, and then the most experienced hunters came up with the trick. The pants... the Usual smell of sweat, feces and blood production pants were left on the edge, and the savage attracting stench pristine air poisoned.
Caught finally caught up to the Prince failed. Looking at her overgrown body, stupid red eyes, incoherent murmurs, the Prince frowned and said, "What is this filthy animal, a fiend who dared to cover their disgrace the Christian world?"
On the same slope, which later broke down and rolled head over heels down to the foot of his pride, the Soviet authorities, was caught by a savage, or man, or beast. There, higher in the relict forests, where it is not reached the foot of the hunter, impenetrable thicket holds the secrets of nature. As long as the elements tore open the firmament, in these forests buried prehistoric individuals, and in the obscurity of the age of your endless whiled away.
Caught a wild woman and in the villages spent. Shuddered then tamed nature from a terrible kind of half-mad red eyes, shaggy mill, the sea surface in the excitement came... hundreds of startled eyes looked to the wild Caprice of nature, as long as the wind ruffled hair on her black body, and fear stood in the eyes of these. Zana called it.
But fickle was the Prince of Achma. To part with his "bride" he soon decided. Passed it from hand to hand, like a macabre trophy, and each of the new owners were in a hurry to get rid of it.
She was in the end the Prince Genabe. He brought her to his deaf village Thine, where she passed away. But before die she know that under the dirty, ragged shell of a half animal, half man beating a woman's heart.
Prince Genabe was a man, but in these remote places does not reach donnaperna claw progress, easy to Wake up animal instincts. Took her Prince, and was born after an ugly, ugly child of the light. The very nature winced at the creations of their hands. Recessed savage illegal child in the icy water...