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March 6, 1815

Five days. It’s been five days since we left Aodh’s ranch, and he sent us off with a farewell and enough food to last us a few days, but the elements are draining, especially for the children. Aileen hasn’t fully recovered her strength from our son’s birth, and Tadhg has been unwell. We grew used to sitting around. I knew our journey would be difficult, but I did not foresee how hard it would be for all involved. Our rations are dwindling, and there’s no sign of animals for us to hunt or berries to pick. Ice coats the ground, and I fear our children will not make it to our final destination.

God help us,

Séamus O’Reilly

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