My dearest, newest journal.

[gauzey]

Gauze opened his pristine book with almost a sense of ceremony; the hardbound's spine cracked with newness and its still-sharp corners posed a minor threat to fumbling hands. It was forest green in color, similar to the journal he'd lost in the mound that was once Wither's house, but this one had imprinted leafy designs swirling across the cover

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[anonymous]

The authoritative message, curiously...