It is going to rain, I know. My hip always hurts when it is going to rain. I think I will go hunting today. Though we have enough meat. Or perhaps I will go to the island where Nadaske used to live. Poor, lonely creature. Though I shouldn’t say that. He left the hanalè, lived on his own, learned to hunt and fish. Learned to kill doing it, something that the Yilanè males never do. It was well learned, a blow well struck. I will never forget him.
Others have of course. Everyone has. I haven’t. Ermanpadar never had a braver tharm in his belt of stars. Though I suppose that Yilanè don’t have tharms. I wouldn’t know about anything like that.
I was born Tanu, lived Yilanè, and am Tanu once again.
Or both really. I don’t mind. Although I feel a strange loneliness at times. I have Armun, so it is not that kind of loneliness.
I must go to Alpèasak and talk to the eistaa, others there. I should have done it years ago. So perhaps it is too late. I am afraid that it is. Too late.
Nevertheless these things happened and they must be told.