The whole evening Lebedyan and Lyubomir, intertwining their fingers, danced in circles, sang songs and danced in a crowd of young people. The girl’s eyes sparkled brighter and brighter, especially after Lyubomir brought her spicy sbiten. They drank it from a common clay jug and got it hot. A strong, intoxicating drink accelerated the blood and flushed the cheeks, spurring unbridled fun and awakening strength for the main sacrament of this night. Clutching their hands more tightly than before, the young people jumped over the fire, watching how the flashes of smag went wild, flying after them. They laughed loudly, cheerfully choosing whose sparks flew higher, who jumped further, towards quick happiness, and who could not control themselves and opened their hands. The bright glare of fire, the radiance of heavenly stars and sparks of fun in the radiant eyes of the chosen one turned his head like the wheel of a water mill. As soon as the greedy flames consumed most of the logs, the couples began to wander around the outskirts of Mirkwood. Going in search of fern color.