Letter 1: Tenth Day of the Autumn of the Fallen Leaf

I
Dear Iran,

Things are not going well along the journey. We have already encountered the Flitchaye. They took half of us, and probably fed on them...nasty cannibals.

Might I add, in case you do not know, that we are headed north due to a change of plans. We have decided to see the ruins of Marshank, and perhaps establish a small colony or such there. Names have already been discussed in the much free time we have. We have decided upon "Marson".

However, who knows if we will arrive there? There are many other threats, such as the Gawtrybe, recorded in Brome's descendant's story. I don't suppose there's any point in even writing you this letter, because we can't afford for anybody to leave back to the Abbey unless we all go. But I'll keep writing.

It's well past night, and even though we've only be hiking for a week, the stars are already unfamiliar, and the moon hangs rather menacingly over us. It is a pale orange, and our group has taken this as a bad omen. I have always believed this is untrue, but perhaps it is. I will never know.

Oh, how I dearly miss Redwall...I suppose I took it for granted all these years. The green habits seemed hulky and rather ugly, but now they seem beautiful (well, compared to the ripped shirt I'm wearing now). The red stones...the stained glass...oh, how I want to be home...

Well, the leader of the journey is telling me that I need my rest instead of writing more letters. I suppose he's right.

I'll write you soon, if not tomorrow. I dearly miss you, Iran.

Your friend,
Moralin

/I