(These were originally written on a wall of a Floran prison cell he once occupied. Do keep in mind that he was deprived of the poisons that he treated as a drug, and he is having a relapse of sorts.) -translated from binary and Hylotl writing- Back in small room, three walls, one door, a roof, and a floor. Has no writing paper or bark, must use walls. Where did I go wrong? I was respected, I was valuable, I had purpose. Now I am in a cell ment for meats. Useless, that is what floran is. -there used to be words here, but they were scratched out- -in hylotl markings- pardon self rant against self. Floran was still useful, Floran was just sick and couldn't be as useful. Skull bugs -a poorly drawn bootle with little dots in it-: flask full of small bugs, meat eaters don't eat Florans. They are friend of Floran. I give meat, Skull Bug hive grow in meat, I take bootle and scoop some up. -poorly drawn depiction of a insect with two legs, and four wings. It's mandibles are practically oversized shears- need cheif's approval to make more.
-Written in poorly worded Hylotl and binary- Small room not bad... can still write on wall, as I have been doing. Not to long ago, I was in another prison, now in new prison. Why, chief, why...
