It is not the rage that speaks to me. I was wrong…
The Great Bear…how is this possible?
He is old. I hear his whisperers like I hear my own thoughts. He keeps things from me.
When I killed the beast I kept it’s teeth and claws and made my cloak from his hide. Tonight I made a necklace from his claws and his two top fangs. With his bottom fangs I pierced my ears. He is as much a part of me as I am of myself. We are useless apart, but together we are strong.
We leave for the raider camp once again on the ’morrow. But, this time I am bringing an old friend.