XX/XX/20XX

You are familiar with Earth, are you not? You grew up there. It is all you have ever known, if I am correct.

Is it that you think your world, your precious Earth, has the only real life? You are a fool to think that. Although I was as much a fool when I lived in the world I grew up in. How were we to know there was any other world aside from the world Earthlings call, the Inkworld?

Call me Dustfinger. You could say I lived inside a book, inside a story. But how do you know your world isn't just a story?

**{---+***+---}**

There isn't much to describe when the scene is moving too fast, and you're caught in the action that's whirring all around you, and you don't know what's happening, or remember what happened previously. There isn't any way to describe such a scene but fear. Fear blinds, hides everything, hides you from yourself.

Confusion. How had I gotten there? Where was I? The man, the child, who were they? What was this place?

Basta had let go of me. He seemed to have taken an interest in the young girl-child, bbut I wasn't sure. He was playing with his knife, as always; walking towards the man, shielding the girl. The man was looking around wildly; looking for someone.

Basta's master, Capricorn, was approaching them. I called the fire but it was silent. This frightened me more than anything else had, since I had arrived here. It would frighten me as long as I was in this place.

But Capricorn was swaying, he was paler than usual. He gripped his sword with determination, but the man had seen his hesitation.

And he had the sword; unsure of how to use it, he was attempting to drive them towards the door. Fool. But Capricorn and Basta seemed scared, backing away from the blade in the strange man's hands.

I wasn't in the Inkworld anymore. Everything smelled different. Not just that; everything was different and at the time I didn't know why.

Homesickness so strong that everything disappeared. I care not to describe it further.

He smiled at me as he returned, a smile I barely noticed; but his smile was bitter and cold. Forced, most likely. "Where is she?" His words echo in my mind even now. "So you're Dustfinger."

Though I have no wish to remember the exact words, I know he knew who I was. Not just my name, either. "Where is she?"

But he already knew. I could see it in his eyes. Pain, sorrow, the traditional feelings of a hero. Does that make me a hero as well?

After all, like him, I did just lose someone I loved. Possibly forever.

Author's Note: This is just something I wrote for school. Since it's about Dustfinger, I decided to put it up here on . It's a diary entry about when he entered Mo's world. I edited it a little, but I wrote it months ago and I don't understand my own writing too well, sorry. I hope you enjoyed this, even if it was more of a rant than anything else!