Hi, could you guys tell me if this sound like something written in a journal? Like the the MC sat down and wrote this after it happened? I've been having trouble making it sound like a journal and still make each entry be interesting and not seem to distant to the reader. This is entry 13 so I'm sorry that it is a bit out of context. I woke up in the middle of the night today. A shudder ran through my body seemingly out of nowhere. I wasn’t cold, at least not until I rose from under the blanket. I peered my ears and heard nothing. I had a sudden urge to go outside, as if the inside of the tent were no longer safe, that there was something alien inside it. Only wrapped in my blanket I made a motion to remove the flap on my tent. But I hesitated. A spurt of warm air graced my fingers, as if from a snort by some animal. It kept breathing and I did not move, condensation collecting on my knuckles. I don’t know how long I stood there. But it felt like an eternity before whatever was outside started to move. A gust of wind, wind strong enough to tear down my tent blew onto me. I staggered and fell on my tools, something blunt boring into my side. Ignoring the pain, I rushed outside. I dashed my head around looking for something I had no image of. For some reason I looked to the sky instead of the ground around me, the image of a giant bird coming first to mind. But there was nothing to see, only my tent laying half bent and crumbled. From the darkness, a distant shriek reached my ears, echoing on the mountain walls - the sound growing fainter at each bounce. It was clear that we were not alone, on our journey through the highlands.