I really wish I understood what has just happened, and why I feel even smaller, and so ashamed that my hand trembles as I pen this down. A few of 'my kind' found me, roused me from my fitful sleep, and beat me until they realized I was not fighting back. Perhaps I disgusted or frightened them so that they lost all semblance of reason at first. I do not know. I heard the word Man'ari pass their lips. It was spat with such disdain. I must find out what this word means; I do not recognize it.

I certainly should have felt something more than this inexplicable shame when they retreated. I was beaten up despite my compliance, simply for sleeping alone in a clearing. But the blame must be upon me, and not my kin. I look like a weak target... I am a weak target.

Finally having met, face to face--face to ribs, in all honesty, with the height they had on me--living confirmation of my own race, only to have them... The details. They are not important.

Is this what is known as irony?

Welcome home, Kei Lun...

Tsun... I miss you, old bear.