It has been some years since I haven picked up this book. Before opening to this blank page and writing, I looked at some of my older writings. Various phases in my life that I chose to memorialize for one reason or another. I've never forgotten just how old I am or just how many adventures, mishaps, trials and tribulations I've experienced.

But as I look back on the written details of my life, I realize that I haven't just lived. I've grown and adapted and learned. Since departing the harigga I haven't abandoned my people. Only renewed my own life again.

I went to the far northern plains, below the Thassa Cartius river. There is where I established my camp, along with those who chose to follow me. The bosk wagons are nearly as spread out or vast as the harigga of the tribe, but there is a taste of home in it.

I spend very little time in the cities within traveling distance of the camp. The stale air and stench of people stacked upon one another was mroe than I could bare to stay inside a cities walls for any length of time. Besides, these cowering and sniveling dwellers disgust me. Their attempts at intimidation or their bragging stories meant to impress some frivolous woman or slut. But their ways also make for easy pickings.

Aside from the cities and the people, I have once more found a girl that hails from my plains. She was free once. A woman raised to stand at stake. There's no doubt of her beauty, but she is being spoiled. Riuned. But I get ahead of myself.

What I know of her is this. Yes, she was a prize in the Love Wars. And her champion was felled by the steel of a Turian. She was taken as the man's prize and through a chain of events that I'm not aware of, she arrived in Ar. This is where I met her, some many months ago. It may have even been a year ago now. At that time, I even looked into the prospect of purchasing her from the dweller that owned her then. Such was not to be, though. Unwilling to speak about a negotiation of price, when he turned his back to me and walked away, I left his house.

I never saw the girl again after that. I knew nothing of what happened to her or where fate guided her life. Until yesterday, when our paths crossed once more. Unlike the last time I saw her, devoid of nose ring and clad in plush, expensive silks, she was Clad Kajir. The small, attractive nose ring had been returned. She looked like a kajira of the plains again. At least in appearance. But her eyes spoke a different story. They were hollow and empty. Life as the pretty adornment of a dweller was killing her soul. I recognized this and decided then I would not allow that to happen.

Instead, I took her with me back to the camp. For safe keeping. I took her back to a life she knew, even if it had been as a free woman. Although, in my camp she would gather dung from the bosk herds. Water the herds and tend to my kaiila. She would keep my wagons in order and prepare my food. She would serve the men and women in my camp as any other slave of the People must.

And we would wait and see if those who claimed to own her would come for her. Would spend the time and effort to locate her, since I left no word or sign that she was in my care. We would see...