After a night of long deliberation, I decided it was my responsibility to share what I'd heard with Ulrich and Tatyanna. Unsurprisingly, Ulrich dismissed it as a hunger-induced fever dream, clearly attempting to shield Tatyanna's dwindling sanity. She herself seemed intrigued but remained mute during the exchange. So be it. If I am to claim myself a "righteous man," I will see to it that they come around in time. Update 1: Things have come to a head. Another argument over food. I'll spare the same rehashed details. But the crux of the argument came when Ulrich blamed my initial reluctance to hunt for contributing to our downfall. He claimed that if we'd reached Bava Nisos in better condition, we'd be better suited to withstand our current scarcity. I'll admit that, in a moment of anger, I forgot my vow to guide the ignorant. I shot back that, given his inability to withstand even the most minimal of worldly discomforts, he'd never be more than a mere bootlicker. And that his ill state wasn't so much hunger for food as hunger for the scraps of Caudecus's validation. At that, Ulrich accused me of jealousy, going as far as to apologize for Caudecus's "dismissive" treatment of me. The accusation was so wildly off base, I burst into a fit of laughter. He dubbed me out of my mind and stormed off into the night. Now, as night descends, Tatyanna and I retire in silence, save the occasional sound of pen on parchment from our respective tents. I've never known her to journal, but I have seen her write to Caudecus. While Ulrich's devotion to him is a cry for validation, Tatyanna's is a desperate plea to belong. One I can relate to. I sought the same when I joined the White Mantle. The difference being that I retained the ability to question. To think critically. And that is where our paths diverge. ------------------ In my times of weakness, Forgive me for my failures to treat the hubris of others not as curated malice, but consequence of ignorance. Like Saul himself embodied, none escape this life free of temptation from mortal folly. Be it not a cause for shame, but a source from which understanding springs. ------------------ Update 2: He calls upon me once more in the dead of night: "My last hope left me here to rot... Please...help me... Closer... Come closer..." I must seek him. Our fates have become entwined.