Brite boy, I could help you if you let me take your hand.

Well, I've definitely been fed more weird than I needed to in one week. Somehow, I've grown used to seeing the strangest animals (and I use this word vaguely) I've ever seen. Ever will see. Have ever called my neighbors.

As for the weather: it's cold. Really cold. I wasn't built for it being this damn cold. I'm sick, stuffy, my throat is sore. I think it's officially infected me and wants me to die. I've never been sick like this before. I think I'm really done for this time.

No heroic act, no dying in the line of duty. Cold weather will be the end of Miss Meryl Stryfe.

Goodbye, village, I knew you well.

Eugh.