Day unto Day, I track my prey
Night unto Night, I stalk my victim
My hunt is not one for satisfaction
It is not pleasure or fun
It is out of necessity.
I hunt because I must,
I live in the wilds because I must,
I bring home my finds because I must.

My hunt is what keeps my family fed,
My hunt is what keeps the tanner busy,
My hunt is what keeps the leather-worker stocked,
My hunt is what keeps the saddles fresh,
My hunt is what keeps the people warm,
My hunt is what keeps the trade flowing.

My tools are crafted by my friends;
Not necessarily friends by choice but by necessity.
Fellow townsfolk keep me content because they must,
Not because I am friendly to them.
Fellow townsfolk keep my family safe because they must,
Not because they are joyed by their presence.

If not for my skills,
I would be as distanced as the wild animals,
As shunned as the insanities of men,
As estranged as the drunks,
As feared and hated as the beasts that stalk in the night.

I am not like the others.
I may be an outsider here,
But without me, they would all be outsiders to the world beyond.
How can one man judge another when the other keeps the man alive?