"...'mamo" she growled with all the fear and warning she could pack into that wisper. Her last word kept ringing in his ears long after the gunshot took her away. Why do the Lomamo want us dead? Why do they distroy our home and steal our land? Maybe we never helped them like the one they call Meshmia. He made friends with the Llomamo, saved many lives, brought peace for many generations. Can that happen again? She who will allways be called my Himeu always held hope of peace again with the Llomamo. "the power of four is like the legs of the one" she would say, "two on each side... You need to get married." The memory of her smile when she said this brought a brief smile to his lips but then he remembered not to slow down... The others had to be warned.