Spring rains continue to drench the region, leaving us with little choice but to travel along the higher elevation of the foothills of the ridge to our east to avoid the swampy lowlands. The land is still muddy, but the water tends to run down toward the river so our path through the hills isn’t as swamped, and the only problem to watch out for would be landslides. Fortunately, I think the frequent storms seem to be slowing so we should have clear skies sometime in the next few days.
Tora’Sor was helping me dry some pages from my journal today after they became wet as we crossed a stream. Reading over some of what I wrote, she suddenly said I make the world seem small by the way I describe the mountain ranges around us. According to her, my descriptions make it sound as if it would only take a day to walk across the valley from one range to the next. In reality, it would take at least two weeks to cross this valley. The mountains west of us are so far away we cannot see them. Other valleys might be wider or narrower, such as the valley between the first and second ranges that would only take three days to cross. Tora’Sor is correct, however, and I need to ensure my record of my expedition provides an adequate description of the expansiveness of the lands we visit.
An interesting creature I’ve been noticing frequently after all the rain is a type of worm that’s easily as long as a person is tall. They’re also as wide as my arm. Like most worms, they emerge from the ground when it’s too wet for them. These, however, won’t make a good meal for the birds. In fact, it’s the other way around. We’ve seen several of the worms climbing into trees, and one of them was eating baby birds from a nest. We’re wondering if the worms might be poisonous, but I don’t think any of us want to get close enough to find out. The slime they leave behind them is thick and messy. I’d hate to find out just how much worse it is if I actually touched one of the worms.