I wake up with a sensible idea for once: head down to the farmhouse and start building a second base of operations in
Mountain Town. It would also, in theory, help with cabin fever. Which means it’s a problem for tomorrow.

Before I go anywhere, I dump a few things at Grey Mother’s. I’m heavier than I want to be, and I’m trying
to avoid that classic Interloper moment where you realise you’ve been carrying your own downfall for two hours.

Farmhouse Plans, Wolf Opinions

I don’t even reach the bridge to the farmhouse before a wolf decides I look like lunch.
And because the game loves rules more than it loves my survival, I’m not allowed to use the hacksaw to fight it off.
So I do what every Interloper hero does when faced with teeth and bad choices:
I punch it.

Somehow, I survive the attack. I limp back to Grey Mother’s to sort myself out properly:

• Pain treatment, because my character now moves like a badly loaded shopping trolley.
• A bandage for a sprained ankle.
• A quiet moment to appreciate that I didn’t lose any clothing in that fight. Miracles happen.

The farmhouse plan is dead. I’m not marching straight back toward “Wolf Ambush Street” while hobbling.
So I pick a new destination: Milton Basin.

Milton Basin: Rabbits, Regret, and a Carcass I Can’t Reach

In my head, Milton Basin means caves, a bit of shelter, and hopefully fewer predators.
It also means rabbits. Which would be great… if my wrists weren’t sprained.

I spot a rabbit and immediately remember I can’t do anything about it. Again.
The game really does have a personal vendetta against me and rabbit-based nutrition.

I do see birds circling, which means there’s food somewhere.
Sure enough, I find a deer carcass… and then spend far too long trying to work out how to actually get to it.
It’s always reassuring when you can see the calories but have to solve a small geography puzzle to claim them.

Eventually, I reach it. I harvest what I can:

• Meat (because starving is still my biggest enemy)
• Deer hide (future plans, assuming I survive long enough to have “future”)
• Skipped the guts this time — it felt like it would take too long, and I’m already on thin ice health-wise.

Mag Lens Logic, Cave Reality

Once I reach the bottom of the basin, I find the cave and decide to do something smart for a change:
use the sunlight while I’ve got it.

I assume I can’t use the magnifying lens inside the cave, so I start a fire outside with the lens,
load it enough to grab a torch, and plan to use the torch to start a fire in the cave.

Naturally, the game proves me wrong. I can use the lens inside the cave…
though to be fair, the fire was right near the entrance, so it’s basically “indoors” in the same way standing under
a bus stop counts as “shelter.”

The cave itself has a bed and bones. I don’t love the bones.
Bones usually mean “something big sleeps here,” and “something big” usually means bear.
I’ve never seen a bear in the basin in my past runs… but I also wouldn’t be shocked if an update made it possible.
The game’s whole brand is surprise consequences.

Cooking, Caution, and a Short Sleep

I cook whatever I can before sleeping. The goal is simple:
get warm, get fed, and don’t do anything that forces another panic retreat.

When I finally sleep, I keep it shorter than the fire’s remaining burn time.
I’m not repeating the mistake from earlier in this run where I sleep too long and wake up to a situation
that feels like punishment for having eyelids.

Farmhouse ambitions can wait. Tonight I’m alive, bandaged, and tucked into a cave that may or may not be a bear’s spare bedroom.
Interloper is about setting realistic goals.

Quick Notes (Steam Deck Survival Brain)

• If you’re heavy, drop gear before travel. Wolves love slow targets.
• After a struggle, fix pain + sprains immediately. Moving injured compounds risk fast.
• Birds circling = calories, but expect awkward paths and time loss.
• The mag lens can work near cave entrances when there’s enough light. Don’t assume “cave” means “no lens.”
• Sleep shorter than your fire burn time when you can. Waking up cold is a classic run-ender.

Video

Continue the journey:
Unprepared Log 13 |
Unprepared Log 14 (You are here) |
Unprepared Log 15