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Kian Pfannenstiel, Writer

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It has been six days since my last recording. I previously expected mountains to the North, but so far I’ve only found more plains. It is a long travel, but at least I know what I’m doing, I know how to survive in this land. This, at least, is good.

The land here is beautiful. The long grass going for miles, the sunsets and rises. But it does keep you on your toes. Frequent fires, flooding, and storms are certain threats even for those of us who are accustomed to living here, but we get used to it, so it isn’t such a problem for us. Snakes are a bigger threat, really. They’re small and often venomous.

As I went, the land is rockier than it is elsewhere. This could be a sign of oncoming mountains, but I just hope the going doesn’t get too rough.

I got really lucky in my choice of direction; because I usually stay within a few miles of my old house, I don’t know which way to the nearest settlement, and it looks like there is a large white one ahead. I’m not stranger to camping, I have camped for the past few nights. But I will not deny that I miss sleeping under a roof. It isn’t too far off now. It looks like a weird ball of sorts with two points at the top. The people who live here must really have it together, because it looks like they even have a fence around their place, and mine always fell down. I wonder what they’re doing right.

I decided that, despite the house being a little far off, it is now too late to make it there before dark sets, and I know that anyone coming to visit me after dark is certainly not going to leave without a few holes in their body. That isn’t a risk I’d run on my own body, so I’m camping tonight. I’ll see what is going on there tomorrow and go talk to them to see if I can stay for a night or two in the afternoon.

That night has passed, and I have done as I planned. They did, in fact, have a very well maintained fence, so to speak, and round the front of their housing are two large windows side by side and a big, pinkish thing on the upper right point. There are three people in this settlement, and they are too cramped to take another, which is fine. I think I want a change of scene—no more plains, I’ve seen too much of this, as beautiful as it is. Besides, though I want more people around, I don’t want three. Three is a lot of people at one time. Maybe one or two, but not three.

They say that the last vagabond to come by this way—they don’t say traveller like me, they say vagabond, it’s kinda fun—well the last vagabond says that around here are no mountains, just plains for a really long distance. However, several days’ travel could get you to a bit of a more wooded area. Not a real forest, but trees. They just don’t remember which direction the vagabond said. Which is a problem. Another problem is that, though they are often the only links between to houses, travellers aren’t the most trustworthy. They find that, though it is a niche that requires you to be okay with a lot of camping and walking and travelling and stuff, it is a great way to get enough food and to see all of the world. That it is the best way of life and that if everyone travels they won’t get enough supplies from settlers. They want to screw over all the people who want to travel so that they can keep it to themselves or something.

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