"Rustle, rustle, rustle..."
Sande took a step to the half of the beehive left behind by the black bear and felt an impulsive irritation welling up within him. He had a strong desire to kick the beehive away—he never wanted to see anything related to beehives or black bears ever again in his life.
As he lifted his foot, he changed his mind.
Sande slowly withdrew his foot, pursed his lips, and suddenly sat down beside the beehive. He scooped up some honey with his finger and tasted it.
He still could not taste any sweetness of the honey, just a cool, sticky liquid trickling down his throat.
But as the honey slipped into his stomach, the irritability in his heart began to subside, becoming peaceful.
Sande kept eating honey and something occurred to him that rarely brought a smile to his face as he finally tasted the sweetness of the honey.
Just as he was about to enjoy another mouthful of honey, Sande stopped and turned his head toward a direction in the forest.
