The morning light slowly crept over the blackened branches of the forest, the dry smell of burned wood still clung to the air. I sat quietly as our crew wondered about making sure every cinder was properly snuffed. I watched a smaller winged creature with human-like eyes stare down from a tree that managed to hold its ground against the flames last night. Its body was plush with thick feathers, a tiny beak and eyes too large and too knowing for its face. I pondered if this was what the fellow travelers of this area called the cursed wanderer. A creature who was formed from the souls of travelers lost to the forest. I myself, not being one for such myths, just thought it was a peculiar sight. It stared down each passing person, almost challenging them to look back into its unsettling haunted expression. What a hooligan, scaring all these superstitious folks. 

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I’ve been told that the young boy from last night plans to stay here as our journey carries the rest of us south. Something about wanting to start a place to settle for travelers to rest from the horrors of the forest. He’ll have plenty of supplies and a few others staying behind with him to set up a more established camp. His wounds are still fresh so I agreed it best if he stays for a time; we have a long way to go across this world, much more to see and document. I’ve heard word of creatures as large as islands making their way past us in the water just off the coast. I’m excited to study such a being! 

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