[Will Witfoot]

Indy's word's hit Fungrim like a hammer-blow. She wanted to be like him?. She did'nt seem to realise that to be like him was nothing to asspire to. For a moment all sort's of obscenities flittered through his head, directed at his own foolishness for introducing the child to such ideal's.

He shook his head and regained control of himself once more. She had said that a friend of her had died, so clearly her word's had a much deeper meaning in the past. He smiled somewhat sourly. There is a lesson here, he thought. The entire world does not rotate around you. He took a final breath of his pipe's smoke before speaking up.

"Indy, hatred and vengeance are, in the end, shackle's. They occupy your entire life, eating away at you."

The girl remained silent and looked up at him. He just hoped that the sincerity of his voice was enough to drive all dream's to be like him out of her head.

"At the moment of suffering, such as the moment my sister drew her last breath, hate and anger can seem like appealing emotion's to fulfill the void tragedy has left behind it. But the easiest path is usually not the best alternative, and so it is with vengeance."

"Believe me, hatred is not worth throwing your life away. You know you have lived a good life when you have accomplished something, made something out of yourself so that when youre gone, people will remember you."

The girl seemed somewhat puzzled. "But if hate is not worth your life, why do you fight your war?" She asked.

He smiled at her, a smile wich hent a hefty note of melancholy in it. "Because that is what I swore to do. Amongst my people, an oath is a sacred thing, and though I am weary of it, I will not break my oath."

He settled back once more and re-filled his pipe. "As to when I'll be leaving, I cannot say. I feel that Ive lingered here too long, but I dont want to leave."

He smiled again, happily this time. "I feel like Ive finally accomplished something."