"I hate this! I feel so out of place here... Everyone is so much a better fighter than I am." A tallish man with dirty blonde hair was stomping back and forth in a patch of open space in the forest. "Why did I even come here? I mean... Its obvious no one here cares. They see me as a weak man... "Take this, young one." As if I need help because I'm new to this." Khyber kicked aside a branch in anger. He was shaking his war hammer around, one that had been given to him as a gift. And in his opinion, it was another show that he was weak. A piece of evidence to show how people dare to belittle him. Yet he could not throw it away.
"Why do I hold on to these things? I know they were given to me out of pity, yet..." He shook his head. "No. I will not use their gifts anymore! I am tired of accepting hand outs like some little child!" With a grunt, he tossed the war hammer into the brush. But it made no impact like what he would have expected. He heard a moaning and something falling over. Worried that he might have hit someone, Khyber strode over to the spot where his war hammer had fallen. To his surprise, an orc lay fallen beneath the war hammer. Apparently, it had been waiting to ambush him. Khyber couldn't help himself, he began to laugh in all his anger and confusion. And the laughter helped... he felt better. He suddenly remembered the people who had given him the items. "I was wrong... they wished only to help me... Not belittle me. This is a harsh environment, and I will adjust soon."
He picked up the war hammer, and smiled to himself as he placed it in the sheath on his back. "I don't know why I get so worked up sometimes... but life goes on." He walked down the trail, heading back to town through the forest with a lighter load on his mind than before.