Journal Entry 41

July 21st, 1947

Well, so far no ‘jackal.’

It’s the second day of sleeping in a tent and so far there’s no sign of any person with a jackal head or otherwise.  We did find signs of something buried under the sands, but neither I, nor Cyrus are really certain what we might have found.

I have seldom seen my Cyrus actually use his powers of mind.  He says flying is impractical and that moving things with his mind draws too much attention.  However, digging for days or weeks in the sand in this situation would be the impractical thing, and so in the night I stood back and watched the sands shift away like water parting.

It was breath-taking.  The sand drew away from a focal point where I could see my lover’s eyes staring at the ground.  It funneled away, piling high in every direction like little hands were scooping it up and tossing it aside.  My feet were having difficulty catching under me and I noted that it was not just the movement of the shifting sands, but the power of what was happening in front of me.  

The power of my vampire is so overwhelming that it nearly brought me to my knees.

After a few feet of sand was shifted away, we came to what appeared to be a hunk of solid rock.  It was oddly colored and had markings upon it.  Instead of being painted with ancient markings or glyphs, there were notches carved into the rock.  It was strange, because one would assume something like that would be weathered away, having been buried in sand.

Cyrus ran his hands across the markings, poking his fingers in a few that were deeper than others.  He said he felt magic from the markings, but he could not decipher them.  He was tired and we retired to our tent for some water and food.  After an hour to collect ourselves, I assumed we would return to outside, but Cyrus seemed to have…other ideas.

I’m not certain if it is being out in the desert sands again, or being in a tent that reminds him of the first time we made love, but he just cannot seem to keep his hands off me.  He dragged me down to our bed roll and we made love, not once, not twice, but three times.  He was practically insatiable and I feel heat in my cheeks as I write this.

I suppose there is always tomorrow.  It is not as if that big rock is going anywhere.  We have not seen or heard anything indicative of an animal or otherwise.  Perhaps the man that came to us was simply attacked by some random wild animal and attributed it to the supernatural because of what he was digging up.  Now the ‘what’ he was digging up still remains to be seen.

However, I am exhausted, Journal.  I shall write more tomorrow after the sunsets and we have further investigated.

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