The three men stood hunched beneath a bus shelter in the pouring rain as the road became a log jam of funeral processions. Giorgi, Aslan and Oleg, all in their late teens, knew some of the dead being wheeled past them to their graves.
As the sheer scale of the loss inflicted on Beslan became apparent, their anger began to find its focus: the neighbouring republic of Ingushetia, which was locked in a bloody war with their region, North Ossetia, 13 years ago.
Some of the 32 militants who carried out the school attack were Ingush, investigators have said.
Aslan said: "Of course there will be revenge. People have to take their revenge - it's their right."
His two friends nodded in agreement, as if accepting further bloodshed as an inevitable part of mourning for the dead. In the North Caucuses blood feuds in which relatives kill their loved one's murderer are common.
Yet Aslan said any revenge attacks would probably not be targeted at specific relatives of the militants. "It will probably be just attacks against normal Ingush people. The Ingushetians have already all left the \ Prigorodny region. They are moving out.
"I won't do anything on my own - that'd be pointless. But if my people get into a war, I shall fight." Again, his two friends nodded at another inevitability.
A hundred metres down the road, dozens of families brought yet more dead to the hastily dug graves in a procession of vans and cars. The air was filled with the smells of decaying flesh, cow dung and diesel fuel, as women wailed. The rain poured down endlessly, turning the field into a swamp.
At 2 p.m. the town's menfolk were summoned to a meeting. It was originally intended to focus their minds on what further action to take, one local official said. Yet two Kremlin officials arrived in expensive SUVs to speak to the crowd from a public address system.
On one side were Russia's rich and connected, and on the other were Russia's poor, the parents, stumbling through the mud to bury their children in cheap coffins. Two pro-Putin politicians, Boris Gryzlov, the speaker of parliament, and Yuri Luzhkov, the mayor of Moscow, stood on platforms, addressing the crowd. Their words seemed distant and inappropriate.
Mr Gryzlov said: "We are at war with terrorism, and, sadly, in that war there are victims. I agree with our president, Putin, who said we must strengthen law enforcement and work to make the country more secure."
Mayor Luzhkov said: "People of Beslan, we [the people of Moscow] share your pain [after the Dubrovka theatre siege two years ago]. Do not let this turn into an internal conflict. We must work together."
The appeal for unity persuaded few of those present. One said that a group of North Ossetian men had already kidnapped 10 Ingush men.
Aslan, 37, a local official, said: "Something scary is bound to happen. The last war between the Ingush and the North Ossetians started with the death of a taxi driver."
He said popular discontent with the North Ossetian government was growing. "Some men tried to come from the village of Sunzhe and tried to get into Vladikavkaz to take over the government building. They were not let inside the town."
His mother, Irina, said: "Our president is 70 years old, nearly at the end of his life, but he took no risks. What the hell has Putin said thank you to him for?"
Aslan added: "The Ingush fled Sunzhe and Chermen on the first day of the siege. Maybe they were warned [by the militants].
He points to the police on the street whom many blame for the poor handling of the siege.
"See how they stand together in groups. It's because they know ordinary people would beat them up if they get them alone."