In the forest, among the trees and bushes, it would be difficult to see. The clothes fit right to hide from the eye. Turning the whip, the girl arranged it on the belt, carefully examining the handle. The knight suppressed the disgust that had risen. "Dirty weapon," he said, barely audible to himself. The girl heard. My eyes lit up with a mischievous twinkle, my lips flinched. The dropped phrase served as her signal for conversation.