I have tried to leave this place several times today. Each time, I have arrived at the tree with the star carved into it. Each time, I am reminded how futile my efforts are, how easy it would be to give up.
Maybe I should. Am I so self-centered to say that my giving into the Forest would destroy the lives of these people I have known for such little time?
That is the crux of this. I can try to draw hope from my companions, but I do not know them. Not really. All comfort rings hollow, all inspiration false.
I have had difficulty trusting people ever since the Forest. Not because of the Forest itself, but because of everything I learned as part of EAT. When you learn everything known to a god incarnate, it becomes difficult to think of humans as anything other than starved animals willing to turn on one another for a scrap of meat.
Perhaps that is simply my own perspective distorting the truth. If that is the case, then I suppose I can take some small comfort in the knowledge that my personality has emerged enough for it to do so.
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