We've returned from the Old Forest. What has felt like an entire day and night, has only been the passing of early morning into late. It's still hours until the the sun sits at its highest.
I'm uneasy. I've tried to find some rest, but was unable to. There's too much on my mind that I can't find reasoning for. I've listed much, but nothing of it makes sense.
There are cuts and bruises that prove otherwise. It's impossible.
If I was wrong about this, what else have I been wrong about? What has been hidden from me? If there are living roots, are the stories about the dead walking true as well?
I may have to study the old tales, find what they speak of and examine it, research and see what can be made of it.
The voice hasn't silenced, I feel it in the back of my mind. I hear its ideas, its encouragement. I shouldn't listen.
She isn't here, but I'm not without comfort now when it's needed. My shock will pass and we'll continue, leaving this forest behind us.
I'll return another day to gather more information. I cannot ignore this.
