Farming was a mistake.
Galeras is nice enough, sure, but between the high winds and the hostile wildlife, we would’ve been better off begging in the streets of Thayd.
The house is a mess. I’m no more a carpenter than I am a farmer. Just ask Myanna. As soon as I nail up a new board, the wind tears another one from the frame.
I’ve had enough of bloody fingers and windy nights!
* * *
Venan has been hearing sounds outside. Growls and grunts. It could be anything.
He and his mother look to
me for reassurance… for protection. I may not know how to build a house, but I sure as sugar know how to protect my family.
I’m going out there.
* * *
Canimid! What in the Matria’s name are they doing here? Sniffing around what’s left of my crops, that’s what! One of them spotted me and let out a roar that would’ve stripped the stones from a Gnoxian. My pistol shot didn’t so much as annoy the beast!
We’re heading down into the cellar now. There’s little enough time to do
anything else, and we can’t run away from the canimid. They’ll just chase us down and feast on us.
If you’re reading this, we’re either dead already, or we’re trapped in our own cellar. Please help us, if you can! Don’t let my wife and little boy die because I wasn’t brave enough to fight those stinking canimid monsters!