Dear Trillium.

The arduous task of walking up hills with little to no energy has become ever so apparent to me as I carefully make my steps up a rocky, tightly knit valley. No plants grow around the stream running around my hooves as I trek further up the mound. The rocks here are salty, blending the water into a vile liquid that nothing can possibly survive. Not even Iron Brand's best forged shoes could survive the onslaught oh this wretched brine.