By Anton Sokolov
At dawn, I set out with the group that foraged east and included two other natural philosophers and four crewmen. We used blades to clear the vegetation that grew thickly here, and slowly made our way away from the shore up a steep incline. Our purpose was to gather samples of the native plants for our research journals. I found myself pressing leaves and stems between pages and taking copious notes on several species of flora I surmised no human had ever set eyes on previously, when suddenly young Mr. Gravet from the Academy began hopping about and screaming wildly!
Chance had bade him pick an unfortunate place to step! Aggressive ant-like creatures swarmed him from below. So many in number were his tiny attackers that we quickly lost sight of him under their onslaught. We finally managed to pull Gravet from the insects - acquiring several painful welts where we had come to his aide [sic]. Mr. Gravet however was bitten (or stung, as I would eventually discover) so many times he was barely recognizable. Swollen unto deformity, over every inch of his person. Moaning like a sick bull, he expired before we could carry him back to the beach. Luckily, some of the creatures still clung to him, providing me with precious samples!