Walking with a wise shapeshifter First Nations shaman, on the way home. Was quite fond of him. Wise words exchanged that I canny remember.
Later, was always armed with something to protect myself against an obnoxious antagonist. I destroyed his nose in a fight, and slowly the threat of him faded out. He represented a certain cook I work with that I can't stand. Feeling is mutual. He started it. Funny, since he can't even speak English. The only person I wish gone from the restaurant I work at.
