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"Rabb, are you okay? Why are you laughing?" Mala asked, full of concern.
He couldn't help himself. He just laughed and laughed, his voice raspy and high now. Tears formed at the corners of his eyes and rolled down his wrinkled cheeks, dripping down to the grassy ground below. He doubled over, his back aching. Then, the most alarming feeling began to quaver in his stomach, his bowels growling.
"Oh gods," he muttered, clutching his stomach.
"What? What is it? Rabb?" Mala was the picture of worry.
"Oh gods," he moaned again, looking around the clearing for any sign of a privy. He should have listened to the old hag when she said to take it on a full stomach. Now it felt like his was about to drop out of him, and soon. "Gods, don't follow me, Mala," he shouted and ran as best he could at a quick waddle into the overgrown grass behind the crooked old cabin.
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