Day 15:
How long do I have before Peers, or the Windigo, comes? Host still hasn’t returned yet, and I know that the moment he sees that message will be the moment not to be here. Point me in the direction of the exit and I will make my way eventually. Tell me where to steer clear of, and I will survive as long as I can keep two steps ahead of my pursuer. It does not matter to him which cabin he kills me in, but it matters to me? Wait, no… that is not what I meant. I don’t want to die at all, in any place. He can go and die, but I prefer to live thanks. The shadows are all around us, I mean me. I know that much to be true. An endless wait for Host to return so I can find out what I need and leave so he will be put out of danger; hopefully. If there is something terrifying in the Inner Centre, then perhaps I could try my luck there. Perhaps Peers wouldn’t follow me. Not Peers, the Windigo. I don’t even know what that is, but the greater mental clasp I have on the fact that Peers is not Peers anymore, that the old Peers is dead and gone, then the greater chance I have of beating it. Equestria has been called the “Country ruled by Harmony”, but that really only means that there is a great amount of chaos ruling somewhere else. I think I may have found that hidden chaos.
Two hours and forty-six minutes from the time I finished the previous segment, Host returned. I met him at the door and immediately asked him the direction I needed to go to escape, and where to avoid. Surprisingly enough he did not seem intruded upon at these sudden questions, as he had just returned, and told me straight to go directly north from the cabin to reach the field. He also warned me that to the south lay the Inner Centre, and upon no circumstances should I enter there. Something about that place troubles him, something dark and for him unspeakable. I am guessing that it is this “Master of Ceremonies” he spoke of previously. Whatever this thing is, I doubt that it is worse than what Peers has become. Also, he informed me that I entered the Outer Centre from the west, and that I will need to head east for a way to bypass the cliff that separates two sections of the Outer Centre. The cliff itself is supposed to be impossible to ascend, and it would only slow me down. He did leave me with a new warning however: “Do not enter the Eastern Field.” I guess I would know it if I saw it, but I should try to stay away from it if possible? Is the Outer Centre really all that much safer if there are all of these overshadowing and foreboding threats around? There’s the Briar Sanctum, the Inner Centre, a massive cliff apparently, and the Eastern Field. Most of these things mean nothing to me yet, but I suppose it goes without saying that the less I have to overcome, the better it is for me.
Host has not yet seen the message, but it is only a matter of time. I need to leave as quickly as possible. I will say my goodbye and leave with all haste. Freedom awaits me at the edge of the Everfree forest. Host told me that I would cross into the section of the forest known as the Everfree before I reach the field, so hopefully the darker being of the wood will not follow me past that point. But I have spent my time and I am off.
East then north, the directions are simple enough. I was planning to find this cliff and walk next to the base, so I would not risk entering the Eastern Field, but should my antagonist attack, I would have nowhere to run or hide. I pen i k for t ppl es in.
It appeared in the original that Cath’s pen had run out of in. Judging by what letters could be written; Cath seems to have forgotten his pens back at the cabin, along with other supplies.
Back at Host’s cabin, I had forgotten my pens and the food Host had provided for me. I took too long to leave. I did not stop at the cabin to write anything, and I now write this a ways to the northeast of the cabin. I took too long, and thus another spirit will hang over me as I run, cursing my hoof prints, and willing me to trip and break a leg. He was innocent, and that is all he wished to be. In solitude from the rest of the world, alone with his memories and his forest. He had everything he needed, and he made it sound like it was everything he wanted. I never even knew his name, and I am ultimately responsible for what happened. I suppose after seeing the same sight with two of your friends who were buried…the effect of somepony you didn’t really even know pales in comparison. Yes he did take me in when he had perfect reason to turn me away, but it was clear that he did not trust me. Never gave me his name, refused to reveal the ending of his story that led him to where he was.
Inner Bark. A feast lay out on the table I had written my entries on. I know its taste, and it is something that no pony should ever have to endure. No torture of the mind can compare to the discovery of the true nature of the food your own friend provided for you and others. Then you return to its source, and the pieces come together. This does not stop the abomination though, it will never stop until one of you sleeps and have no need for his or her hide. A grim spectacle, and even though I have been made to endure the sight and stench of it twice now, I could not stay a moment longer; not for a pony I barely knew. It was just like the others though, skinned, blood, gashes and gaps in the muscle, and on display for me. He/It knew I would return for what I had forgotten. Well played. If you know the game and you make the rules then who is to say what is fair and what is not?
I have traveled far northeast by now, and thus my path turns directly east until I feel that I have traveled far enough. Regardless of the knowledge of what hunts me, if I did not have to keep in the back of my mind that something lay out there in the eastern gloom of the Outer Centre, then I would have no qualms with walking east for well over three miles just to ensure I am not backed up against a wall.
The day is waning on, and the sun has begun to drop in the sky. Shadows have become longer, and harder to avoid. I can’t really see what the shadows contain; no pony can except the one who made them. Whether it be Celestia or something of darker origin, the shadows are bound to their will, and they will reach for them with the long hooves of shades. The hooves of the long gone, and the long present are always reaching for you, especially here. I must travel. I must leave.
The noise that stops half a second after I do follows me. I cannot see the maker, but is there really any need to see? I walk forward, treading as carefully as I can, but yet the thing behind me walks even more softly, silent save for the moment that I stop, then it becomes real. I have glanced over my shoulders as I walked, but both the trees and the shadows of the evening obscure my vision. I have even stopped suddenly and run the other way, yet the only things to welcome me are the trees and shadows. Perhaps you are hiding with a shadow that is loyal to you?
The night is almost upon me, so I take the last despairing drops of sunlight to write. I have traveled so much less than it feels, or perhaps so much farther than it seems. I don’t know anymore; I don’t know what to think, or what has happened. Three dead, three killed off by a creature I know nothing of. Why does it hate us? I find no reason to ever have to know, the only thing that must be done is escape to this field beyond the forest. The field inside the forest is warned against, and the field outside is sought. Where are you? I know your face, and I have no doubts that you are watching me, two small, white and centered pupils in large staring eyes, and a crooked smile to turn the tide and weave ice into the wind. I will never stop running. Try as you may to work your way into my mind, the running will never stop.
Cath Wintergreen Amber
A curious entry, as Cath spends little time writing about where he is, and where he has gone. Instead he chooses to write about his pursuer, and describe his feeling towards the fate of Host. Another interesting aspect, as the last two times he could barely write when he had discovered what had happened, and here he is able to take a moment to describe what he was feeling and what his reaction was to the incident.