WIN) You decide that if it is time to die that you want to go down fighting. You quickly scan the surroundings and find a long sharpened stick that would do nicely as a spear. You hear snuffling and snorting sounds coming from the darkness. You thrust the wooden spear into the shadows, hoping to hit something. The warthog pokes its ugly, tusked head into the light. "Oooinnk!" It charges! A sharp tusk gouges the soft flesh of your left leg. You close your eyes and jab at the pig hoping that the spear will guide itself. The squealing stops. When you open your eyes you see that your wooden spear found its way to the warthog's heart. Even though you are victorious, your body is racked with pain. As you glance up, you see eyes peering at you. The hunters! They help you up. Your father takes a sharpened stone knife and cuts open the pig's chest. He then proceeds to remove the heart. Some of the blood left in the still beating heart is squeezed into your mouth as a sign that you were the killer of this pig. Your tribe like many others believes in animism, the belief that animals, plants, and even rocks have a life and a spirit. The hunters say a quick, chanting prayer to the spirit of the pig, thanking it for the food it will provide. Then the carcass is loaded on to your back to carry back to camp. What a hero you will be.