Day 804:
There’s another group of murderers skulking around.
I was all the way at the top of the local mountain to the south, ankle-deep in snow, when I heard one of them call out to the others. I looked down, and sure enough, there he was a little below me on the mountain aiming a cross bow at me.
I got a picture thingie of him, because some days the things I write in this journal feel unreal to me and I’m sure that if and when someone else reads them they won’t believe a word of it.
Anyway, he shot crossbow bolts at me and missed, I shot hand-made arrows at him and hit, and he’s not a problem anymore. His crossbow was crap, so it wasn’t even worth saving. And his partners in murder ran off before I could find out if they wanted more of the same.
