'Fil', that's the name I'm called by.
I'm a soft skin and a bearer. And the hard ones, the 'howlers', do call me like that when they demand my service.
It's good to be a bearer. Much better than a hauler. And even better than being a domestic. Bearer do get around. Bearer take their howlers to other huts and sometimes even to other tribes. We seldom have to share in the rituals. Most others look at us in envy. Being a bearer surely is a privilege.
I'm proud of it.
Although it's hard sometimes. Supposed to be ready anytime. In late nights or early mornings, in hot and cold. Always we're expected to take our howlers to any place they aim for. It doesn't care if we're tired or unwilling. We have have to obey them anytime and any place.
Especially in recent times. There's much a do these days. The disease has decimated us. There are not much of us soft skins left. And the howlers are worried about this. That is as far as I understood their words. And it makes them anxious, I don't know why. And this makes me nervous, too. Me thinks I heard rumor that a great seach will be started soon. I don't know, if this means something good or bad...
Until being told something else, I'll do my duty as always. I don't know what's going on, but I'm sure the howlers will take care of it...