Dear journal,
As Hawk rests in the tent, I sit outside- though not alone. Some burning feeling inside me is telling me to watch out, but I try to relax. It's just hiking. I tell myself. The only thing to fear is fear itself. Shadows, pixies, ogres, who knows what inhabits these woods? In case we don't make it, though I think we will make it, i'm going to keep this journal, so whoever finds it will be gifted with my thoughts. I can tell that Hawk may think that there's something up with these woods too, but just doesn't want to admit it. I try to cheer him up.
(A scribble from an obviously bored, tired, and nervous Oak is below the journal entry)
Hawk is getting ready to go... I may have to stop here. I'm going to keep my head up high, and watch my back...
-Oakfire Blood Red
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