Overcast

Today the sky was overcast with clouds. The plains blanketed in a shroud.. a blanket that appears to have tucked everything in. The bosk are quiet. Dawn was mellow. No shooting shards of gold across the sky. It eased over the hills and ravines. It is still. It feels damp but there is no rain.

I left Yaz, the big black sleen guarding my wagon. Someone went in it when I was not there. That does not please me. Is it not enough that they attempt to waylay me for a purpose I do not even know yet? It is not that there is much in there. I own very little. But when a man owns less he values what he owns even more. I finally own a space that is mine. It is not the biggest or the newest wagon but it is mine. It was perhaps only a slave meaning no harm, however ... I own no slaves. No slave has permission to enter my wagon and touch my things. No slave has begged me to be allowed to offer me food, or water, or bring anything else that does not belong to me to my wagon. In any case, whomever or whatever it was about I have left the sleen there. It will not happen again. No one will get within fifteen feet of my wagon. I am not sure who is crazy enough to believe I will eat food that is not mine, that I did not request. There is someone within my people that wishes me harm, I will not be such an easy mark.

Either my space will be respected or Yaz will eat well.