Jessica's Log - Day 3, Part 1
Well, well, well. Today was a good day - excellent, even. Nothing tried to kill us, and Sathonyx was almost useful!
It makes me nervous.
I need to stay vigilant. The Shadowbinder looks poorly upon those of her children who let their guard down. Tactical suicide is something other Flights do.
As for the day's events:
(Note: While I say "Day," we really have no idea what is when down here. "Activity Period" would be more accurate, but I just don't want to change note-taking conventions in the middle of my log.)
We woke up to find glowing mice eating Russ's rations. That's what you get for being an herbivore: all the small and sneaky creatures try to steal your food. Anything that wants to eat my food is big and aggressive and willing to fight me TOOTH AND CLAW! Except maggots, I guess. Though if your meat is rotten, then clearly you have other problems to worry about.
Whoops, I digressed there. Anyway, Russ stomped a few glow-mice flat before Sathonyx suggested that we find out where they had come from. You know, if Sathonyx would just stick to being reasonable and helpful like that all the time, then I wouldn't hate him as much. So we followed the terrified mice as they ran for home (Russ had to occasionally roar to get them good and scared again), finally reaching an enormous cavern, filled with life, where everything, absolutely everything, was bioluminescent (Yes, Sathonyx, I do know what that word means, I grew up in the Wispwillow Grove you piece of Longneck lint).
The place really was beautiful. Pastel colors, little glowing flowers everywhere, graceful vines hugging the walls. Russ and I got the chance to wander around while Sathonyx gathered samples and did some of that overglorified cooking he calls alchemy. It made me feel homesick, but I also felt at peace for the first time since entering the Icefield. Russ must have felt something similar; he approached me, and here is our conversation as best as I can remember it:
"This place is beautiful, is it not? I know not of its twin in all the Icefields," he said. I nodded. "A place worthy of being remembered, and shared with others, yes?"
"I know. It's going in the log for sure."
"Jessica," he hesitated, "I know you are a warrior, not a storyteller. Yet you seem to be enjoying taking the log..."
"What are you getting at?"
"Would you be willing to tell me about this later?" For the first time since I met him, Russ looked nervous.
"I don't underst-- Oh. Tundras. And memories." Insert "um", "right", and other stupid sounds here, until you want to slap me.
"I - there's no one else I can ask-"
"Yes! I mean, that's fine, Russ, really."
This conversation included without further comment, because writing it has made me emotionally exhausted. I need to take a break.
