((An old, ripped and quite large diary of the Mason family ‘founder’, most of the letters are clearly visible. Only Traggan should have access to it.))
May 27, 2774
That wound dad has doesn’t really look nice. Ever since we set off on that ‘great hunt’ I knew there’s going to be a blood price for what we’re after. Those two years ago, when Willie – God bless his soul - fell to the giant worm and me and dad retreated with luck, I thought a thing like that is just impossible to even hurt. But in the past month we killed several of those and I feel so proud!
I don’t like to fish anymore, it’s boring as hell and even mum once admitted she didn’t have the guts to sit by the lake all day, holding the pole and reading a book. Sometimes dad says mum is behaving strange, and I can’t disagree, but I’ve heard some arguments they had before we set off and I think both of them are completely bonkers. For sea-monster’s sake, I can take care of myself and I definitely don’t need “two caring parents to calm me down a bit,” as mum argued.
I made dad a cup of tea to relax a bit and gave him some of that medicine I got from mum a before we set off, and about which she said that it mutes pain. She gave me a whole pack back then and it’s still almost full.
Wait... what is that...
((The last words are clearly written in haste))
