On an Endless Sea
#3 of The Griffon of Paradise: The Full Account
January 4th, 1135
Surprised I was able to get any sleep during the night. Guess you can sleep anywhere if you're tired enough, even a small wooden lifeboat getting tossed about a wide open ocean with a whole lotta nothing as far as I can see. Believe me, I tried. Took off and flew a few laps around the boat to see if there was anything over the horizon. Just water, water, clouds, and more water. I'll check again assuming the ice on my feathers doesn't shatter them.
Not like the sleep I got was any good, though. I was wedged between the seats with no back support. Woke up sore as shit. Not like I could sleep on the bottom of the boat, as a whole bunch of water was sloshing around in it. Good thing I was able to bail it out, so tonight I can put some blankets down and be a little more comfortable than I was last night.
I'm paying big time for not going on deck with warmer clothes, and for getting wet on the way off. My hands and feet are killing me. There's this weird numbness and pain at the same time in my fingers and toes. On the off chance I ever get out of this, I'll probably lose a couple. As awesome as my high-top sneakers are, they're definitely NOT ideal for cold. No gloves, either.
Whatever, I'll worry about that later. Right now I gotta find someone or someplace soon. I still have food and water to spare, since this boat was meant to hold several people. It's this fucking COLD that's the problem. Well, that and I left my phone in my cabin when the ship sank. Not like I expect to get any reception in the middle of the fucking ocean, but at least I could listen to music or something while I waited to die. Sitting around looking for land and in pain is getting really boring.
Know what? This really pisses me off. I'm not afraid of dying, but I could've at LEAST died with dignity. I wanna go down fighting something big and ugly, like a manticore or some shit. Or I could get killed doing something cool like riding a bugbear through Ghastly Gorge or setting a new record for most ale chugged back at the pub. Fucking Gilbert thinks he's so tough because he managed a keg and a half, I'd show him!
But here I am sitting on my ass and slowly freezing to death out on open water. Where's the glory in this? Where's the dignity? This fucking sucks!
Enough rambling. Sun's going down and I don't have any artificial light besides some flares, and I wanna save those for if somebody shows up. I mean, somebody must be looking for the ship, right? They must've gotten an SOS out.
Nah, this ain't a fairy tale with a happily ever after. Real life is harsh, and help usually isn't coming. It's why Griffonstone has gone how many years without a king. We're, what do those eggheads up in the universities call it? A failure state? Something like that. Bunch of smug pricks.
I'll write some more later, if I'm still alive.
-Gilda