22nd Bleakmoon 694 in the Cycle of the Red Sun

It was Master Verin's idea that saved us so far. The method we chose has so far proven effective, yet unpleasant. We threw everything we had that would burn onto a pile and lit it. Parchment. Rope. Spare clothes. What little lamp oil we had, for writing in the . Even the vines we had collected.

Kresho will have to live without a proper sling for a while more, but the thick smoke is so far keeping the birds away from the cave mouth. Our guide is foretelling doom again, however, saying that dusk is, apparently, when things get really bad. There's a few more hours yet before we start walking again.

I've been watching the vegetation, down here at the bottom of the scar. It is unlike anything I've ever seen. The trees seem to have scales, instead of bark. Not like the split bark of some trees, regular, overlapping scales. Their leaves, too, don't look proper, more like hair or thin tendrils. At least there's not too many dreamcatchers around here. I've included a few sketches on the next pagge.

Spoiler
Show