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(Unofficial Girfugol "font" by Lynxfang!)

Woodknocker’s Journal, Spring

It has been many seasons since the war began anew. Even so, I can still remember my brief trips to Preyma and Baraahn. Though the dromaeus, especially Reprise, were much friendlier than the gryphus, I enjoyed both trips greatly. It came as a great shock to me when the borders closed – rumor is that something went wrong at the peace treaty meeting, but I haven’t had the time to investigate further; being a contract worker and a father takes a lot of time and dedication, but I don’t regret a second of it. Okapi learned quickly, and I hope he finds something to pursue that he’s passionate about soon.

Sometimes I think about the annexation of Salt Lake, and how I adopted my son only a few months before the battle. I can’t imagine what might’ve happened had I not been hired to take a look at a tunnel in the mines…

Recently, I was in Goodearth working on a contract to fix an old roo’s house when an army of dromaeus attacked. It was the closest I’ve ever come to dying, I think. I was even chased down by a dromaeus soldier all the way to the barracks before a guard came to my aid – luckily, it turned out that the soldier was not so keen on combat, which surprised me. I hope the message I gave them got through, as silly a hope as that is. I had to go back to Goodearth after the attack passed because, in all the chaos, I lost my tools and other supplies. I was able to find replacements in Hyresh, thank the dragons, but it still cost me a lot of time.

Thus, the reason I’m writing this down. I needed to collect my thoughts on war and all the misery it brings. My parents told me stories about the war before the ceasefire, though they always glossed over the gory details. I see now they did that to protect me, to warn me about what war does to people. In hindsight, those probably weren’t the best bedtime tales to give to a child, but I digress.

I saw the rocks fall from the claws of dozens of dromaeus warriors, tearing through thatched roofs and pelting those unlucky enough to not be in shelter. I carted several panicked citizens to the safety of a wooden-roofed barn, only to be singled out and chased like I mentioned before. While I ran, however, I saw scenes of battle; of teeth ripping flesh; of claws tearing fur and feather.

That day will haunt my waking moments for a long time to come. That said, witnessing war first-claw has also moved me. Though I may be only one hippus on a continent sick with battle, and I know not what sparked this war we inherited from our parents and theirs, I am sure that I am not the only one who wants to live in peace. I already know a few folks in this kingdom who agree. Soon, I plan to draft plans for a new movement, one I hope will get the attention of the monarchs and pull them together again. I don’t have a name for it yet, but a friend of mine helped design this insignia, which we’re calling a “peace blossom.” The idea is that the flower, representing peace, will bloom for future generations, represented by the egg.

Every avus that dies on the battlefield has someone that cares about them, and I believe it’s far past time for this fruitless war to end; I just need to get the message out.

Description
(Unofficial Girfugol "font" by Lynxfang!)

Woodknocker’s Journal, Spring

It has been many seasons since the war began anew. Even so, I can still remember my brief trips to Preyma and Baraahn. Though the dromaeus, especially Reprise, were much friendlier than the gryphus, I enjoyed both trips greatly. It came as a great shock to me when the borders closed – rumor is that something went wrong at the peace treaty meeting, but I haven’t had the time to investigate further; being a contract worker and a father takes a lot of time and dedication, but I don’t regret a second of it. Okapi learned quickly, and I hope he finds something to pursue that he’s passionate about soon.

Sometimes I think about the annexation of Salt Lake, and how I adopted my son only a few months before the battle. I can’t imagine what might’ve happened had I not been hired to take a look at a tunnel in the mines…

Recently, I was in Goodearth working on a contract to fix an old roo’s house when an army of dromaeus attacked. It was the closest I’ve ever come to dying, I think. I was even chased down by a dromaeus soldier all the way to the barracks before a guard came to my aid – luckily, it turned out that the soldier was not so keen on combat, which surprised me. I hope the message I gave them got through, as silly a hope as that is. I had to go back to Goodearth after the attack passed because, in all the chaos, I lost my tools and other supplies. I was able to find replacements in Hyresh, thank the dragons, but it still cost me a lot of time.

Thus, the reason I’m writing this down. I needed to collect my thoughts on war and all the misery it brings. My parents told me stories about the war before the ceasefire, though they always glossed over the gory details. I see now they did that to protect me, to warn me about what war does to people. In hindsight, those probably weren’t the best bedtime tales to give to a child, but I digress.

I saw the rocks fall from the claws of dozens of dromaeus warriors, tearing through thatched roofs and pelting those unlucky enough to not be in shelter. I carted several panicked citizens to the safety of a wooden-roofed barn, only to be singled out and chased like I mentioned before. While I ran, however, I saw scenes of battle; of teeth ripping flesh; of claws tearing fur and feather.

That day will haunt my waking moments for a long time to come. That said, witnessing war first-claw has also moved me. Though I may be only one hippus on a continent sick with battle, and I know not what sparked this war we inherited from our parents and theirs, I am sure that I am not the only one who wants to live in peace. I already know a few folks in this kingdom who agree. Soon, I plan to draft plans for a new movement, one I hope will get the attention of the monarchs and pull them together again. I don’t have a name for it yet, but a friend of mine helped design this insignia, which we’re calling a “peace blossom.” The idea is that the flower, representing peace, will bloom for future generations, represented by the egg.

Every avus that dies on the battlefield has someone that cares about them, and I believe it’s far past time for this fruitless war to end; I just need to get the message out.