Day 7:
Last night wasn’t much better. Once the coughing quit I would have been able to sleep, but the mere thought of why said coughing ceased was enough to keep me wide awake. I don’t know what time I finally dropped off, but it was far into the night. I guess Peers didn’t sleep much either, as he just sat next to the window and stared out at the woods. A very long night. It wasn’t fair that we didn’t give Wymble a chance to live. I’ll never forget that look in his eyes as he saw Peers throw his only chance of surviving the night into the fire, a look of utter betrayal and bitter sadness. He knew at that moment what the night brought for him. I guess he accepted his fate, as he stopped asking for water. He just coughed, alone, until it killed him. Now that the morning has come, another injustice has been served to my friend; it’s a nice, sunny day. After days of treacherous wind and cold, he has to be laid to rest on a day that he would have previously relished in. It would be so easy to curse Celestia’s name, to say that she should have control over all Equestria, but
But nothing. She should have control of the weather in all corners of her domain. While she lives in a state of luxury, far away in Canterlot, ponies all over Equestria are made to work to bring the change of the seasons. I swear on the lives of my friends, if I survive to see civilization again, I will demand that she do her duty as our ruler. There is no excuse for letting this happen, for letting ponies die in agony because she can’t be bothered to work.
Peers has offered to bury the body, but Cross’s memory still haunts my mind. To shuffle off what I consider my duty to a long-time friend would mark me as nothing more than a beast. The days seem to be warming slightly, despite the changing weather. I figure that I do have the luxury to bury him closer to the cabin, and not down the hill next to Cross. I don’t think Wymble will mind being buried away from the other. It also might protect the body, as something did feed off of Cross’s body, and I have no intention of having Wymble’s defied in any way, but any creature. It’s odd that there is something out there, and it has not come looking for the rest of us. Don’t mark me incorrectly, I’m glad that it is not close but I almost knew what we might have to deal with.
I left Peers with Wymble’s body to go out and search the nearby woods for a good spot. Thankfully there is one not too far from here, underneath a large tree, with a good amount of sticks and loose snow nearby, as to make something of a decent grave. When I returned, Peers was sitting next to the body, staring intently at his face. Poor Peers, he said that he didn’t know Wymble too well, but I guess being trapped in a cabin in the middle of a forsaken spit of the forest known as the Briar Sanctum will make you feel like you knew them all your life. I see the fire is down to coals again. Maybe there’s some of that bark closer to home. How’s that, we’ve been here for exactly a week, and already I know this cabin better than my own home back in town. We’ve been gone a week, hopefully somepony has noticed that we haven’t returned and a search has begun. Then again, the Everfree is a massive forest.
Just returned from burying Wymble. Peers said he would go and pay respects later, and to take all the time that I need. He left just a moment ago. It was a calm ceremony; I dug down in the snow a bit, laid the body in, and covered it with an assortment of branches that were nearby. They were soaked, so they wouldn’t be any use to the fire. Thankfully it is somewhat warmer out, so I was able to stay out a bit longer and say a couple of words. I’m not one to believe in spirits, ghosts, or the like, but if there is some chance that he could hear me speaking I asked him to ask Cross to forgive me, just in case. I don’t really feel any relief from the heartache I feel when remembering Cross after asking, but maybe it takes longer when you’re ghostly. Peers also had the idea that there might be some more of that bark nearer to the cabin, so he is going to check after paying respects. Windigo?
Peers has carved “Windigo” into the door. Why does that seem familiar? I don’t have the luxury of letting him be at this point, we’re the only two left; keeping some connection to him is vital. He’s seemed very disturbed by something. I would go as far to say he’s bedeviled. Staring in a nervous state at night, being irritable and almost twitchy during the day… I don’t’ know what he’s dealing with but it’s something serious.
Peers has returned with plenty of that inner bark, enough to burn and eat. There’ s a part of me that feels anger that he couldn’t have found this before, but we didn’t know that it could be found this close. He should have searched closer though; he could have found some and Wymble would still be alive for a bit longer. Maybe long enough to have broken the sickness. Whatever illness did kill him doesn’t seem to have spread, so that’s something. I guess that if he was still alive it might have spread onto one of us at some point, but I guess that I should be thankful that I have eluded whatever did strike him down.
I figure that I should go visit him again, say something more. Perhaps it will ease my mind, and take away the guilt of leaving Cross. I have presented this idea to Peers, and he seems very adamant that there is no reason for me to go back. As he put it: “What is done, is done. There is no need to revisit what cannot reply.” I suppose he does have a point; that Wymble is gone and my visiting will not bring him back. It might bring me peace though, and ponies back in civilization visit the deceased in their graves, so I don’t see any reason why one more talk wouldn’t hurt.
Peers seems very aggravated that I would go back and visit the grave, regardless of what ponies back home do. His argument was that we’re not in civilization, so we don’t need to follow all of the rules we would back home. He does, again, have a point; we aren’t in civilized Equestria, there are rules which we don’t need to follow, and probably shouldn’t to some extent. But no matter, if another visit is not for him, then let it be for us; I’ll look to see if I can spot which trees that edible inner bark comes from should worst come to worst and I have to fend for myself, alone.
Cath