12th of Sun's Height 4E201
A pack of wolves attacked in the night last night, tearing a few of the others to shreds. Their screams woke me,  and I ran to try to save them. The others who survived the first attack fled, leaving me to face the wolves alone. I quickly climbed a tree and carefully aimed my bow, using the light of a nearby fire to guide my aim. Only one wolf remained alive when my arrows ran out. I drew my daggers and jumped down from the tree, my screams echoing through the forest as I attacked him. I crouched there with his body next to me, my breath coming out in ragged clouds of fog. The others who ran didn't come back, not even when I called out that it was safe now. I gave up and sat by the fire until sunrise, shivering despite the warmth from the fire.

This morning I buried the dead, relieving them of the earthly possessions that they would no longer need. I placed a sprig of nightshade on each of their chests before covering them with rocks and snow. I left the wolves where they fell, after I took my arrows back from them.

Still no sign of the others, it makes me wonder if there are worse things than wolves here in the wilderness.