[Thinlómien]

If the Valar allow you one indeed. And they won't if you're going to make me your enemy, Grimhorn thougt darkly. Unconsciously, his hand gripped his big axe.

Grimhorn forced himself to relax. The familiar, gentle voice echoed tesingly in his head. That temper of yours is like a teenage boy's, my dear. You should really try to control it, my raging bear. But now it wasn't the time for sweet memories.

Memories. A strange thought come to Grimhorn. This is all about memories and past generations. Memories. How easily they can be altered!

Anyway, Rían was too angry now. To tell him that his memories might have been altered was not the wise thing to do. After he had got angry, there would be hardly any reasonable discussion ever. Ever.

And besides, Grimhorn himself did believe the tale. He hadn't known his father as well as he maybe should have, but he certainly had known his temper.

Grimhorn decided to be honest with the man he still regarded as a lad. "You said my father burned your home and I trust you're not lying. However he didn't do that without a reason."

He sipped his beer. "Without a good reason", he added taking another sip. "And the Radagast the Brown issue surely isn't one."

"Really, one wizard. They are powerful folk, it is said. And I don't disagree." Again, Grimhorn took a sip.

"I hold Radagast the Brown in great esteem", Grimhorn told Rían. "But all I can say about Greäw the Pretender is that he got the death he deserved and not too early."

He remembered the rumours he had heard as a child of Greäw being eaten by bears. A death most unhonourable for any beorning. Eaten by his own kind. Though there were theories that being eaten by sacred animals was a great blessing, but no one had really took those speeches seriously. Especially after Greäw doing what he did. A shame.

"But my father surely wasn't that interested in petty magicians. He was a respected warrior, held in esteem in the society and had a farmhouse of his own to look after. He wouldn't have wasted his time in people pretending to hear or see something that does not exist."

"If he had something against your father, that wasn't surely the petty magician issue, I assure you. And speaking about how beornings are losing their own culture to foreign ways surely doesn't make one a hater of anything un-beorningish."

What was this all about? If we only could contact the spirits of the dead all would be solved. But that right is denied from us and the living ones are left to solve the problems of the deceased ones.