Dialogue for Pack yak

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Dialogues[edit | edit source]

  • Conversation 1
    • Pack yak: Barroobaroooo baaaaaaaaarooo... (When I came of age, the herd pushed me out. It was always this way for an adult whose father still lived. I would have to wander across the Fremennik lands until I found a new herd to join, and I had to hope that the men whose paths I crossed wouldn't decide that I might make a delicious meal. The trolls, too, were a concern, though they were easily avoided and yak-skin is thick and though. So I set out on my journey, only 8 years old for a human, but already a man in yak society.)
    • Pack yak: Barrrrooooo. (I'd forgotten how depressing my life is...)
  • Conversation 2
    • Pack yak: Baroo barrrooooo barooobaaaarrroooo... (When I was an adoscelent, wandering the fields and slopes of my homeland, I knew that I was destined for greatness. Though I was merely a yak, and though all yaks dream of far-off lands and grand adventures, I knew my horns to be sharper than most and my tongue more agile; I was better able to cast my lowing voice across the chasms that separated me from the other yaks, and my voice became a song to the yaks that remained in herds. I, unlike all the others of my kind, was not interested in rejoining the society - in my exile I had come to love solitude and the calm sounds between the spaces of silence that the moutains whispered.)
  • Conversation 3
    • Pack yak: Barooo, barrrooooooooo... (I was born on a miserable night in Bennath. My mother, bless her soul, died in labour and was eaten by the Fremennik who tended our herd. My father was never about, as he spent much of his time showing the adult females how much he could carry, for how long and how quickly he could traverse a mountain pass. He was a foolish yak and was laughed at by the herd, though he had no inkling of that. With no obvious father to raise me, I was left very much to my own devices and relied on the generosity of others to make my way through infancy and childhood. I was forced to be cunning, wise and, sometimes, ruthless.)
    • Pack yak: Baroooooo. (I don't know what it is to be ruth, though. It is a silly word)