I find myself huddled in the shelter of an oak, waiting out the latest storm. My entry must be brief, for the damp is making my ink run.
I took the right fork, away from Stock, and am on a path lined by ancient oaks. I may even be taking shelter in the same tree where the heroes did so long ago.
Hopefully tomorrow will have clearer weather...
Posted by Key at September 22, 2011 02:17 PM