Scribbled on the second page of a small, poorly bound pocket journal.
Galtan Gals last night were churning,
Gathered close for Desna’s feast.
Starsong’s light saw them gathered,
Drinking, singing without cease.
A Galtan Gal last night was burning,
Lashed and labeled as a beast.
Starsong’s light saw her writhing,
And watched until she had deceased.