Reference:Achenar, personal journal, Lake house

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Achenar, personal journal, Lake house
Location Haven, Lake house
Author Achenar

Not sure I can do this. Pen feels awkward. Keeps slipping. Been so long since I used one. But what else is there? What else to do?

Went back to wreck today. First time since moving into house. Found His bones exactly where I left 'em. Except clean now. Bleached white by the sea.

How many times have I replayed it since then? Sun sinking into the waves. Tip of my spear gleaming wet with the poison. See myself crouching low near the rocks. So SURE He will come. Because of His mate.

Sometimes -- in my head -- it happens different. Poison gets diluted. Or one of her ropes snaps & breaks. He rears back. Spear misses. Somehow they both get away. And we all get one more day worth living for.

****

Reset traps today. Swamp water corroded one of 'em. Forced to go to depot to fix.

Coming back saw a camoudile take down a zeftyr. Moved with such precision. Not a single gesture wasted. Zeftyr probably didn't feel a thing.

****

It's not what I expected. Living lakeside. It's calmer. Not as windy. But rain still beats down like in the Wreck. And it's hot. Still hot.

Only real difference is the Screams. Lot closer now. On all sides. Starting to get on my nerves.

****

Can't sleep. Too many screams. And when I close my eyes, the Things I see. The faces.

My god, Sirrus. Did we really kill so many??

****

Added it up. Best I could. 8 years. 3 since I killed the last cerpatee.

Keep thinking I should do something for him. Place some kind of tribute next to the bones. Totem pole, maybe. God knows, carving it would keep me busy for awhile.

Maybe I can make one for each of them.

****

What's the use? What's the use? Can't go on like this. Can't THINK!!

Have to do something. Have to keep my mind OFF the dreams. Maybe -- maybe go south a few days. Sleep outside.

****

My god, Father. Did it have to be the same?! Two weeks working my way through the South Jungle and for what? More of the same. More of the same empty NOTHINGNESS.

Can't take it any more. Can't LIVE like this!!!

Karnaks got in while I was away. Forgot how agile they are. Braver, too, when they're hunting in groups. Been breeding like mad, ever since I killed their primary predator. Should probably do something about that.

But maybe I can redesign one end of the bridge. Create some kind of lock to keep 'em out.

****

Went back to the south jungle today. Hoping I'd missed something. Saw a group of mangrees playing under their nests. Thought about replenishing supplies, but couldn't do it. They just looked too peaceful.

Eventually turned to go, and spied one of 'em watching me. Their lookout, I suppose. Wonder how long he knew I was there?

Ink supply getting low. Watering it down, but might try to make more. The way the Channelwood tree-dwellers once taught me.

****

Found some petals in the south jungle that might work for the ink. Picked a few to take back as an experiment.

While picking them, I noticed something odd about the mangrees. In the north they all scatter as soon as they spot me. But the south tribe only looks curious.

Must be because I never hunted them.

[scribble]

New ink seems okay. Would prefer a better color, though. I'll head back to the south jungle in the morning. See if I can find different varieties.

****

I don't believe it!! Went back to gather more petals and found a bunch of 'em already picked. They were lying in a pile where I'd been working!

Mangrees MUST have done it. Imitating me?

****

Spent most of the morning in the watch tower, trying to observe from a distance. Find out how they act when I'm not there. Couldn't see much, though. Trees are too thick.

WOULD like to get closer somehow. I suppose I could build another post, but it'd have to be different this time. Not a lot left I can take from the Wreck.

Kinda like the idea of going all natural.

****

How the HECK did Saavedro's people do it?! Been weaving support branches all day and my arms & chest muscles are killing me!

Mangrees sure got a kick out of watching, though. One of 'em even stopped playing long enough to come over & give me advice. Least, that's how it seemed. Wouldn't stop chirruping at me! Made me want to rig up another sound system, see if I can try and talk back.

****

Oh my god. It can't be. It CAN'T.

This evening I was sketching in the post. Trying to get their expressions right. Mangrees were playing that game they like to play. Fruit-tossing.

Ball must've rolled under the post. All of a sudden I heard this cry I'd never heard before. Sequence of drawn-out highs and lows. Looked up & found all of 'em looking at me. Pointing at the ball and making that sound. Like they were calling a name. MY name.

THEY'VE GIVEN ME A NAME!

What am I supposed to do with this, Father?!! What am I supposed to do?