We now find ourselves tracked by an unknown monster as we seek to avoid a tribe of cannibals.
Starlark has found further evidence that such a beast is following us. Every morning he scouts the surrounding area before we move on, and again he found evidence that something giant had slept near our camp.
The bed of matted material where it lay is as large as the last time we found one. Whether it is the same animal or not is impossible to say. We don’t even know what kind of animal it could be. Perhaps it is some descendant of the forest Titans of old? Perhaps it is something entirely different.
Where only days before I wrote of how free I felt to be moving again, now I feel trapped by the motion. We push on not for progress; we push on to live.
I slept poorly last night, images of that boy being ripped apart are burned into my mind. Every time I close my eyes some new aspect of that horror revisits me.
How can people do such things to one another?
I take it as further proof that we do not belong here. It seems a miracle that anyone even continues to survive in such a place. A twisted, morbid miracle.
If there are gods left in this place, they are the cruelest I have ever heard of.
We should move east for at least one more day before turning north again. Having no knowledge of the KoraKora leaves us vulnerable, we have no way of knowing for certain just how large their territory is or what the pattern to their movements looks like.
We should be able to probe north to keep track of them as we move east until we are certain they are no longer between us and our goal. From there we should only be a day away from the road, and then only a week from Graylag.