Felsite Twenty-Fifth, 1057
I have paid dearly for my stupidity. To swear not to make such a mistake again would only compact such utter ignorance as that which led to the horrible events of this day.
Pax, my beloved companion for all these years, the dog I raised straight from a scraggly pup with just a bit too much eagerness, has been struck down.
Through my own inattention, he was left to wander too close to the river's edge. Not a moment after he came to drink from the water did a giant fish leap from the water and savagely tear him in two.
I have taken the body, what I could find of it, and placed in in a simple casket. I have no means with which to inter it aside from my own hand, and although I suspect Pax would've been pleased by such a display I must turn to other slightly less damaging alternatives.
I constructed a small tomb for him from the local pines. It should be enough to protect his remains from the elements and simple scavengers.
Speaking of the scavengers, more kobolds have shown themselves as of late. Their numbers seem to be increasing, and they appear at unexpected times throughout the year. However, these latest thieves have not been so fortunate in escaping the attentions of my axe.
Pandora is far less enthusiastic these days. Although the death of Pax is most certainly a factor in this, it is also a statement of the years taking their toll on her. I dread the day when I will have to build a second pine shack on the hill...