They call me Fink. I’m not entirely sure why the name stuck. I guess it’s because I lie. It’s what I do. If I’m speaking I’m lying, at least according to most. We actually came up with a rule; I have to announce when it’s my true statement or statements of my day; yes, it’s that bad. My lies though, my tales, my way of speaking, does have its advantages. I have been able to talk my way out of more situations that would have resulted in a fight or even death than anyone else in our clan. I don’t have Crenshaw’s rage or strength. I’m not able to bulldoze my way through this new world we find ourselves in. Don’t get me wrong, I can hold my own in a fight, albeit it’s never a fair fight when I’m involved. Crenshaw appreciates that at least, the other just don’t get it sometimes. They live under the misconception that we need to live by a misguided honor system, like a bunch of damn boy scouts. Cheater is what they call you when they’re not willing to do whatever it takes to win.
That’s why I’m still alive.
That’s why I’m still here.
My name is Fink. And I’m a Survivor of the Reckoning Day.
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