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4 September 18--

I have no timepiece with which to mark the precise moment that I write, but I have not slept, nor has the sun risen, so I mark this as the fourth of September, the night when the full moon rose large and bright, lighting the landscape for me to see the creatures howling outside my cabin.

And creatures they were, I am certain of it. Mere wolves would not form a circle around the village, facing outward, similar to the game the children play. Natural wolves would not exhibit such intelligence in their expressions, such recognition of my face, and such immediate disregard for me, just like the tribesmen.

I have observed the tribesmen in their day to day activities, and I have learned that they truck with spirits. But I had not previously determined to what end. Now...

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