I'm back on the road now. It feels a little strange after a couple months spent living in a real place, and a steady one. But after years and years on the street, I'm a little surprised I got used to having a bed so quickly. I guess that's how it goes, though. If it weren't for Sam, being homeless would feel like nothing more than a bad dream.
I don't want that to happen, so it's for the best that I'm on the road again, headed to parts unknown. I left three days ago, my former host had someone attempt to smuggle me out and send me on my way. Unsurprisingly, I was followed. Three of what I assume must have been hollowed but could have been others like Moth, I suppose, tailed me for a few hours. When the car stopped, they ambushed me. They weren't particularly challenging to deal with, I had Jill and my broom handle, so between the two of us I managed to knock them out and ditch them. I'm sure I know who sent them.
I'm safe and sound and well away from my tails. Next stop will be something a bit more useful.
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