Day 2:
Didn’t get much sleep last night, but it seems that I’m in good company on that point. Wymble and Cross seemed to be just as tired this morning, as they were last night. To make matters worse, that snowstorm probably set a record for the most snow fallen in a single area in one given night. Peers had to climb out of the only window in the small cabin and dig away the snow from the door just so we could open it and try to find some dry wood to make a fire. We managed to burn some scraps last night; but the fire went out a mere hour after it was started. It’s very cold, and the sky has refused to let the sun appear, as the entire sky and horizon is painted in a single coat of monotonous grey. Usually I find fallen snow beautiful and very peaceful, as snow usually comes with a silent serenity where it falls. But not here, here the silence is almost overwhelming. I forgot to write last night that I had not seen or heard the sounds of birds or beasts since we entered the Briar Sanctum. We are about to head out into the dense woods to try and find more wood, but I am dubious of how fruitful our efforts will be.
We searched for almost an hour and a half, but in this bitter cold it is impossible to stay out for any decent amount of time. Thankfully the cabin remains semi-warm with all four of us ponies inside, and we did manage to obtain at least some dry wood to make another fire. Peers has a lot of survival equipment with him, as he goes off into the woods quite often. We should be able to return to our homes soon enough with his help. Well, we did lose the marker on the trees that marks the way out, and even in the day the Sanctum is incredibly dark. The line of trees that separates the clearing from the wooden thicket of the forest have a foreboding feeling to them. I asked the others about the trees and they concur that they just don’t look inviting. The clearing that the cabin is in has no other plants or trees, and is completely surrounded by those strange trees. Perhaps the reason is that they are all gnarled and twisted, much like those of the krummholz (the twisted wood of the sub-alpine).
Cross has begun to panic. It seems really early to panic, but I must remind myself that this is his first real trip into the forest, or anywhere that could be defined as wilderness. He started screaming that we were never going to escape the woods, that we were going to die and rot here, etc. Peers has become irate very quickly at this, and is beginning to yell back at Cross, who is still panicking. I wonder if they even notice me writing all of this down, I sort of doubt it, as two of our group are yelling at each other and Wymble is watching in silence. The argument is intensifying quickly, and they both look close to snapping. I want to try and interfere before somepony gets hurt, but I don’t know what to do. I think that it
Well, we finally managed to get Cross back inside the cabin. I knew that he was a fast runner, but man did he cover a lot of ground. I know his feeling though, as I’ve also been wondering whether we will get out of here alive. Best thing is to keep a cool and level head. The last thing that we want to do, but unfortunately the first thing that always happens, is bicker. Our fire has gone out again, and Peers has decided to go into the forest alone to find some more food and look for one of his landmarks. At least we have a couple days worth of food. We won’t go hungry unless we don’t manage to find some means of escape.
The sky hasn’t changed its tombstone-grey shade of cloud. The wind has begun to pick up again slightly, and Peers isn’t back yet. It’s been almost two hours. I know that he’s tough when it comes to battling the elements, but the icy chill isn’t just a surface feeling, it eats you down to the core. Cross just got to sleep, thank the stars. Wymble and I were chatting earlier, trying to keep the spirit up. It was an interesting conversation, as every topic that we discussed avoided our predicament, and yet alluded to it. Shame that none of us are unicorns; then we could just whip up a roaring fire, some shelter and such. I’ve heard that some unicorns can move magically long distances in a matter of seconds. How nice would it be to something just moved past the window.
I think that whatever the thing was was Peers, as he returned just as we went outside to check if something had moved. Peers looked very cold, haggard, and downcast. He just told us that he was unsuccessful in finding any of his landmarks. He keeps looking out the window at the forest. Normally I wouldn’t think anything of it, but he looks worried and a bit scared. Staring at those dang trees will do that to ya I guess. Oh look, Wymble woke Cross. I guess that means we get to eat now.
Why should we be the ones to get trapped out here? You always hear the stories about ponies who get lost on long journeys to far away places and die in gruesome ways; and you always think: “It will always happen to somepony else.” But I guess we are all somepony else to somepony. I just don’t feel like writing right now.
Cath
I saw something in the woods. It was just standing there, unmoving. At least, I think I saw something. I don’t know, it was really dark and there was something that looked out of place. I don’t know. I DON’T KNOW.
The last segment is most likely written by another pony than Cath Amber. It is highly probable that Peers Abslove is the author, as he apparently ventured into the Briar Sanctum alone.