Letter 5: Seventeenth Day of the Autumn of the Fallen Leaf


Dear Iran,

Sorry for not writing sooner.

I suppose you could say things are going well, if you aren't
a nerve-stricken morale-less beast like me. We did come across a spring, and filled our canteens with the fresh, cool water.

But we forgot to boil it, and three beasts died - Grass, Treelimb, and Swoon. All three were young, lively, girls...that makes...24 that have died out of 41 beasts. Redwall will be stricken when we return.

If we return, anyhow.

Anyways, thank the fur that I didn't drink any. I was about the only one that didn't come down with the illness. We were stranded for three days, and my pack was tossed about and dug into for herbs. Ack. Luckily enough for me, I grabbed the four first letters to you before I lost it for those three days.

It's night again, and so hazy that I can't see across the camp, let alone up the mountain. Of course, that's a stroke of luck on my part, since the clear sky shows the mountain looming over us. I can't wait to be clear of it, and into the Barren Lands.

This journey is reaching me to my very heart, chiselling it to pieces. I can barely contain myself of the thought of returning home.

Depressedly,
Moralin