Cah-la-te : Rifles no can kill men now dead. Grey Wolf driven from land. No game. Winter come. No warmth. He walk. He call to moon. But he is now dead.
Cah-la-te : Cah-la-te forget how to kill but know how to die.
Paladin : What good does that do to the boy?
Cah-la-te : If boy must go, place that dust in my mouth, bury Dead Wolf.
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