I have had yet another rubbish sleep. Partially due to the uneven and uncomfortable ground, and partly because of those words. "Oh, I will willy." I keep rereading the passage over and over, trying to remember when or why I made it, but I find nothing. It is so alien, and yet it must be my doing. In its tired state, my brain must have cooked up the idea of ghostwriting messages in order to drive me mad, but this only presents even more questions than it answers. I can feel myself getting itchier whenever I think about it, so I will endeavor to set out soon. A morning walk may help to clear my mind.


It is now afternoon. Maybe 3:00 PM by my reckoning. I have stopped by a small stream in order to rehydrate. The itching and the thoughts of my ghostly follower have only grown more prominent in my mind. They chase themselves around the inside of my skull without resolution. I fear that if this keeps up, I shall become a gibbering lunatic before I am even a week here. Nonetheless, the water is cool and refreshing, and I have taken the opportunity to wash myself and my grimy clothing. I write this as I dry off in the afternoon sun, with my skivvies laid over a nearby boulder.


I have just witnessed something incredible. As I was drying off, a titanic beast lumbered out of the forest on the other side of the stream. It was easily twice the size of a human and longer than any horse I have ever seen. Enormous horns were jammed into each side of its skull, looking like branches made of stone. It had heaps upon heaps of fur, leading me to believe that it is some kind of buffalo. I managed to spot the creature before it spotted me, and I dove behind the boulder my clothes were drying on. I watched as another one, and another, and tens more waddled slowly out of the trees. The whole herd of super Buffalo then lined up and began to drink from the stream. I felt sure that they would drain it. They were unable to but that is not to say they did not try. Almost half an hour later, the Herd finished drinking, and shuffled back into the forest, in the exact same direction I wish to travel.

Having had nothing for it, I grabbed my clothes in a bundle, waded across the stream, and ran after the beasts. I caught up with them easily, their lumbering speed no match for my nimbler size. At first, and against my better judgment, I tried to approach them. The moment I got too close, each one of the super buffalo stopped in their tracks and lifted their heads high, as if sensing my approach. I backed off, having no desire to face even one of those creatures. Once I got outside a range of about thirty meters, they seemed happy to carry on.

I followed them for the rest of the afternoon, winding and twisting through the forest at random. Finally, as the sun began to set, they all curled up in a clearing. I thought this to be my cue and began collecting firewood. I found a larger tree that one of the buffalos had knocked over, and began using some nearby sticks to get it going. Alas, I cannot find a stick that will grant me the fire I need.

You better thank me for this willy!