they are from kiselevich and have nothing to do with the army. only at the maisterne a winged rabil for those tanks protseval, the spears were not right. putting on table basket, from which the woman began to get and lay out the products, she continued to beg the commandant. fan chiefs, give me back my lord. let me collect hardjiks here for you. at this phrase, the commandant perked up noticeably, very seductive smells emanated from a basket of lard eggs, a dozen, greens, nodded towards his assistant captain, langut in a moment, he was already listening to the commander’s orders and soon rushed to fulfill it. the rapper himself, twirling a gun in the face of an obsessive aunt, with a gesture ordered to be silent and sit silently. when the prisoner was brought into the room quietly to sit, she could no longer pick herself up from the bench, hurling curses at the ruler, who had poked her head into other people's business, literally pushing the door in the direction this time. everything went well , it was scary to imagine how the lord could end if