Arm yourself with the knowledge to bring down your government; to bring back those lovers you didn’t think you would need during times such as these, to make electricity from spoiled fruit and how to follow my steps in the muck
Arm yourself with criminal law; Voodoo, and all the spells left over for us. Scavenge through the records of modern times. Arm yourself with the knowledge of the ages written by conquerors over the ashes of the “Witch Hammer” and similar publications. Arm yourself with the enigmatic world of the Arts; Dance, Painting, Poetry, and all other useless tools to catch your prey.
Arm yourself with my history; my crimes, my kills, my lost arrows, conversations with the dead, and the footprints I’ve left from where I’d come.
Your hunt was over before it began. You see; I’ve been dying for a long time now and you don’t have the time to walk in my footsteps and without that you cannot judge me. My path has been dark, so arm yourself with this knowledge; I cannot be caught by a Butterfly net or bombarded by artillery, you can’t cut my throat or through me into a river like a bag of unwanted kittens
I am your conscience, and you can’t hunt me. Lay down your worthless education and machines and pay for the footprints you’ve made.

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