Day 4
The sun bleeds orange into the eastern waters as I write this, my back pressed against J.B.'s warm, rumbling form. His snores shake through me like distant thunder—a comforting sound after today's frustrations. Ssath'lithal has found her evening perch on a driftwood log, tasting the salt air with lazy flicks of her tongue.
Word reached me today of giant spiders plaguing the roads near Edana, along with a bounty posted for some ratman called Kritchek. Simple enough work, or so I thought. When I arrived at Edana's gates seeking more details, two human guards turned me away without explanation. Something about tensions between their city and Arandor—politics I neither understand nor care to. The way their eyes followed Ssath'lithal's movements, hands drifting to weapon hilts, told me my companions were as unwelcome as I was.
I find myself staring at my wrists as I write, the pale scars catching the dying light. I've seen what both sides of any conflict are capable of when they believe their cause just. The cruelty that men inflict upon each other in the name of righteousness and greed... it never changes.
This is why I prefer the company of beasts. Animals are honest in their intentions. J.B. wants food, warmth, and safety. Ssath'lithal seeks sun-warmed stones and the occasional hunt. No lies, no politics, no chains disguised as duty.
The wilderness makes more sense than civilization ever will.