[b]he sighs deeply[/b] Doesn't matter now, all my peeps are dead. Dead dead dead. Lost to the endless reaches and unforgiving embrace of the vacuum. I am but a remnant of those people, here to carry on their traditions as long as I may live. That man was a small inconvenience, I was worried he would kill me, destroying my people, but no longer do I fear of such things. Now I simply mourn their losses [b]he sits down on a barstool, pulling out little pieces of tree bark, each with a name on it, and scratches it out with a knife, he does this to all of them except one with a question mark on it[/b] "This one is me, scratch it off when I bite the dust, will ya?"