"Why are you asking? Like... to grant a prisoner's last wish, or... for something else?"
When Taras turned his head toward the window, ignoring Maxim's question, it only made Maxim even angrier. Next week, it was the time for the revolution they had been planning for years.
And Taras, disappearing for days, becoming more and more incomprehensible, was not a good sign.
"Listen, man," Maxim called out in a heavy voice.
"You never answer to anyone, I know that. That's nothing new. But you can't just vanish for days and then… walk around like your mind is stuck on just one thing. Got it?"
Taras seemed almost stubborn in his refusal to look at him. Maxim gave a bitter, angry laugh.
"You've been gone for five days. Did something happen? Where were you? Has your rut started... People kept asking about you. About their leaders."
