We carry many things into the desert. We carry our entire lives on the back of our k'toogs. We are the people who wander the wasteland, to rally the ek'luka behind our caravans, so we might harvest and slaughter them to eat them and make of their bodies needful things.
The ek'luka are ugly and treacherous. We give them the remnants of our tribe, the garbage left in our wake, so they will follow us. They will eat anything they can. They are scavengers.
One has eaten my son's hand. Its unforgiving beak crippled him forever in one bite. I was not fast enough to stop it. I do not know how I will ask him to forgive me for it when he is older.
We carry many things into the desert. We carry tents and tent poles. We carry food and water. We carry weapons and tools. I carry my guilt with me. I cannot toss this away and forget it like the garbage of our tribe. I will carry it with me forever. Amazon
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Paradox - The Angels Are Here
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