Captain’s log… Some random day in May

It’s been well over a months since I’ve documented my many adventures through the wood and rain. My feet are twisted in some weird amalgam of seasonal change, joints swelling and decompressing, fingers twitching at every stray drop of hydroassailants falling from the sky. The locals have become quippy, not their usual iced over selves. I’m not sure if the sheer magnitude of the slight temperature changes throughout the day are taking their toll on their mental state, but it appears that they are not as well-prepared for this type of living as originally thought…

…ill-assimilation may cause them severe and dire effects…

As the days roll forward, I find myself stuck in a mental trench of “perhaps this, perhaps that”, consoling myself with the drink of the Highland farmers. Diavol attempts to console me, but even he’s lost somewhere deep in the land of drafts and broken trees, finding his place among other human beings… But together we have been trudging through the thicket, his sidekick on his shoulders, mine tucked neatly behind my ear. We’ve made some progress, but have been set back on so many occasions, I would fear the worst may occur… If we weren’t such stubborn asses, hell-bent on making our way to Peklenc’s place of business…

…We will see what twisted fates await us at his gates…

(And now I’m Dr. Fucking Seuss … What the fuck…)

End Captain’s log***

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