Entry 5

Teaching me the ways of this strange land, Onacona is. The more time I spend with him, the more sense he starts to make. Things that are obvious to him I am blind to. Read the dense foliage like a book, he does. Much like father could read the sands. In some ways, I have realized it may be easier to track and hunt when there are so many plants around which can be disturbed, flattened, bled on. Like the pages of a book written in a language I have yet to master. As we approach this wreck, and the sounds of the infinite sea grow stronger, a strange sense of foreboding I feel. A mystery, what we may find is. Perfect for an ambush those cliffs are. Yet press on we must, for the exiles, for Glada, for the wolf pack. Whatever lies in wait for us, together, we will face.