Accursed ones,
The name, Rohil, no longer means anything to me, only the fire of your spirit...I will have all of it!
And, Luka, Dear Lady, I will not forget the interference of you and your friends...you stole what I needed, what I craved, what I need to escape the terrible cold of my existence. You and the Rom and all your Rai will suffer at my hands.
You learned of my vulnerability to the Gypsy Curse...well, you are not the only ones who can call upon the Curse.
But I will make this deal with you, a temporary truce: Meet me at the next gathering and we shall strike a bargain that will save all the Rom...especially the children, whose spirits burn bright with delicious warmth!
Until then, I spy another Romani Camp not far off. And they are dancing and singing, but not for long, for I hunger...
The Mulenguro
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