<The following is scribbled in a hasty scrawl that indicates a hurried hand>
The weather continues to hold. Recent melting of snow and a bit of rain has made tracking easy, and there are prints leading towards the river that are not those of men.
I have the first parcel of supplies, and will need to make several trips to deliver it all.
There is no doubt of goblin activity in these hills, though I have not yet seen one. Their tracks are scattered and visible in the mud, and they hide their fires poorly. The air is acrid with the smoke from their nearby camps.
An old owl sits in a tree nearby and watches me. I will try to remember him and draw him when I return.
