Dear Josefa,
I thought running away from Maragir was a challenge, but now I see that surviving out here is the real nightmare. Wild animals, cold nights, not knowing what will happen next – it really does a number on one’s mind. Dieter broke yesterday. We were running away from a vrakhiri patrol and he simply stopped and sat down on the road, giggling to himself. I couldn’t make him move, so I left him there.
When I came back to our hideout, Curt didn’t react well to the news about his brother. Said I was a coward. Shoved me. So I punched him. And again. And again. All this rage inside me… I just couldn’t stop.
I’m alone now. I don’t know why I’m writing this. You’re dead. And I’ll join you soon.
Yours,
Cal