Dear Journal,

The crisp new pages of a brand new diary are perhaps the only meaningful marker for the march of time these years. I find myself heading cityward for better hunting grounds, though tonight I dine in some little place called Ferryway as I'm growing rather peckish and could do with a...pick me up.

These quaint human traditions for markets and merrymaking have long bored me, but perhaps I will find a few morsels to entertain me. At worst I can certainly find ways to amuse myself, but I doubt the people of Ferryway will appreciate my favourite... pasttimes.

It just makes it all the better, however.

[i]Regards, Arianne[/i] x