The old-one sat thinking he had heard others in the herd and the nobles both talking of a thing called hope. Hope and optimism the old-one thought what those things are hope in what sense, to desire with some expectations of attainment. Optimism was an opinion that everything is for the best and will be good. Was hope like praying? The old-one thought praying, hoping for a change that never materialized and optimism as hope, is like praying that everything is for the best and everything has its own good. Yet, the old-one knew that if he were to change, to see his freedom, and to grow old, he too would have to hope and be optimistic.

Perhaps pray. No, he would not pray to the spirit, he prayed to the spirit, when he needed it the most, the Great Spirit left him to suffer at the hands of the betrayer. However, maybe just maybe, the old-one thought that the spirit had intervened. Afterwards, he never felt the pain, though he remembered all the incidents but never the pain. Was this the spirit gods answer to the old one’s prayer? The old-one knew not. Was it possible? The old-one would ponder this thought in this solitary time of his loneliness. He slept then awoke to the sounds of movement.

The old one’s cellmate was pacing the floor, back and forth, back and forth. The old-one sat up watching this young being pacing and worrying. The old-one thought to himself, “What does that young being have to worry about?” The old one, as miserable as he was, still worried about what would be his fate. Was this young being as worried as he thought or was he just that way? The old-one did not know the answer and would never find out.