Chapitre 26: A History of Survival

"What is that?" the little prince asks.

"It's a crossbow," the man replies in his gruff voice.

"How about that one?" he asks again, this time pointing at a nearby stone propped atop a cloth.

"A flint stone," the man replies, more impatiently this time.

"What's a flint stone?" again asks the little prince.

Finally, the man sighs. He turns from his business of swinging his sword. He puts down the large sword he managed to swipe from the village, resting it on his side.

Sweat dribbles down his face, his breathing is heavy from the physical exertion. 

He furrows his brow as he stares at the little man sitting atop a stone beside him. The little kid has a stick beside him, which until now he had been swinging around in an attempt to copy the man's sword swinging. But the stick he picked up was too big, and he kept getting swayed around by it. So he decided to rest for a bit, and now is pestering the older man with a barrage of questions.