Life has been hell these couple of weeks. We have lost access to much of our little havens, for the enemy has encircled it. With our current strength, we stand no chance to engage with those hounds. It’s best to back off, and seek refuge elsewhere, so they tell me.

So they tell me.

But nobody tells me what to do. We’ve been at the mercy of these…these predators for so long. I cannot just sit around, watching my clan continue running. How many other clans are suffering the same fate? How many are dead? We can’t run any faster, and if the enemy spots us, we are dead.

So, today, I say: we strike first. More specifically, I’ll strike first.

No-one else dares to take them on. But I’ve started doing so in the cover of night. The smell of these wretched cur’s blood, splattered upon my bayonet, is something as familiar to me as the ambrosia of our homelands. I will singlehandedly, fight for our survival. I will fight to see that all of us live, and that the enemy dies.

Because I am Kangan, Killer of Dingoes.