I’ve missed the mountains. They remind me of the cooler months when the trees start to turn, and all of nature starts to close in on itself to weather the frost. I always pray that my awakening will come, just like theirs, after the frost takes me.
The elf and I have at last reached Longhorn, the main city of my people, as well as the current tribe leading them. The Longhorn are very wise, with many mystics to help guide our path as a whole. I am glad they have survived better than my own clan. We have stopped here to replenish supplies and rest before going into the valley proper, as well as seek knowledge of landmarks that might help us map out what lies ahead. I will seek out the Longhorn council to ensure them that the Darkhorn tribe still lives, and request that our lands be cleansed of the filth that is Tudum’s occupancy. I know that they will decline, but this is only to plant the seed in their minds, so that after my exile into the valley I will once again call for aid and be heard. The semblance of the power struggle is evident, as more and more outsiders pour onto the island each day.
I am not fearful of the valley. I am fearful of what will happen outside of it.