Tag: Survival Diary

New Survival Series Begin: Alien Isolation & Elite Dangerous

Two New Survival Journeys Begin This Week

“Because one disaster at a time just isn’t enough.”

This week, two fresh series are launching across the hubs:

Both kick off this week. Keep an eye on the hubs — and as always, expect chaos.

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Customloper Diaries – Day 7: Bow Before the Blizzard

Customloper Diaries – Day 7: Bow Before the Blizzard

Weather: Clear start → freezing winds → blizzard
Loot Highlights: Survival Bow, cooking pot, skillet
Mood: Excited → frozen → grateful to still have toes

◀ Customloper Diaries – Day 6: Blizzard Send-Off, Ptarmigan Detour, and the Great Cooking Pot Tragedy  | 
What is Customloper?

Morning Discoveries: Max’s Last Stand

Today’s goal was simple: reach the Camp Office without becoming a wolf’s breakfast. That’s really the only bar for success these days. On the way, I spotted one of The Long Dark’s most reliable signals that something is worth investigating: birds circling in the sky, waiting patiently for either my demise or someone else’s.

Luck was on my side for once — it wasn’t my turn. At Max’s Last Stand, a corpse lay frozen in place, and right beside it sat the holy grail of early-game weaponry: a Survival Bow. I snatched it up with the speed and enthusiasm of a raccoon finding a half-eaten cheeseburger.

All I needed now were arrows. With them, I could finally graduate from “rock-throwing medieval PE teacher” to “slightly competent hunter.”

Deadfall + Hypothermia = Great Life Choices

Feeling pretty pleased with myself, I decided to swing by the Deadfall area. That’s when my overconfidence caught up with me. The temperature dropped faster than my optimism during an Interloper run, and I was soon staring at the dreaded red text: Hypothermia.

I lit a fire in the nearby stove, boiled some water, and cooked… something. I’d like to say it was a hearty stew, but given my supplies, it was probably just porridge or whatever counted as “hot food” in my pack. Once I had a bit of warmth and hydration, I grabbed a torch from the fire and pressed on toward my main goal.

Lesson learned: Interloper weather waits for no one, especially those who think they can “just pop over” somewhere.

Camp Office and Instant Regret

The rest of the walk to Camp Office was blissfully uneventful — a rare thing in Mystery Lake. Inside, I scored a skillet and cooking pot. Not exactly a rifle or a quiver of arrows, but after yesterday’s cooking pot debacle, I wasn’t about to complain.

Then I made the fatal mistake: I decided to “just explore the area” before settling in. First came the snow. Then came the blizzard. In minutes, visibility dropped to “guess and hope” territory. Navigation became a mix of scent, instinct, and blind luck.

Somehow — and I truly do not know how — I managed to stagger back to the Camp Office without being eaten, freezing to death, or wandering onto thin ice. The blizzard roared outside as I slammed the door shut, my heart still hammering.

Evening Wrap-Up

Back inside, I set about cooking more porridge, boiling as much water as I could, and letting my core temperature crawl back to something survivable. The bow was now mine. The arrows? Still a distant dream. But tomorrow, I’d change that.

Tomorrow’s Goal

Find arrows. Or a rifle. Or, failing that, a pointy stick and a really bad attitude.

Continue the Journey

◀ Customloper Diaries – Day 6: Blizzard Send-Off, Ptarmigan Detour, and the Great Cooking Pot Tragedy
Customloper Diaries – Day 8 ▶

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Sunburnt & Sinking – A Stranded Deep Survival Diary: Day Three

Sunburnt & Sinking: A Stranded Deep Survival Diary – Day 3

Difficulty: Normal
Optional Features: Permadeath enabled (naturally)

“Hydration success, culinary failure, and the return of a long-lost knife.”

Weather / Loot / Mood

  • Weather: Warm morning sun, light breeze, suspiciously perfect for false optimism
  • Loot: Cloth (from mystery container), water still, refined knife (found in sand), shattered coconut dreams
  • Mood: Parched → euphoric → regretful → betrayed

Water Still Victory

I woke with a tongue like sandpaper and the hydration levels of a sun-bleached raisin. Today’s mission was clear: build a water still. The problem? I had no cloth — or at least, that’s what I believed.

While digging through my supplies, I remembered the sealed storage container I’d been dragging around like some clueless beach hoarder. Inside, lying there like a treasure in a castaway’s dream, was one glorious piece of cloth. Just enough for what I needed.

Moments later, I had all the parts gathered, and the still was built — my first real piece of survival infrastructure. It stood proudly in the sand, a guarantee that thirst would no longer be my most urgent problem. I almost gave it a name.

Floating Cloth and Coconut Regrets

Of course, before the still came together, my cloth had to put on a show. When I dropped it on the ground, it stood upright like it was trying to defy gravity — or audition for a magic act. Strange, yes, but soon incorporated into my new pride and joy.

With water secured, I turned my attention to food. Variety was key — crabs and coconuts had kept me alive so far, but they weren’t exactly a balanced diet. I set my sights on fish, convinced a fire spit would be my ticket to grilled seafood glory.

But first, a quick survival PSA: never eat too many coconuts. The consequences are… unpleasant. I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just say my digestive system filed an official complaint and threatened industrial action.

Island Limits & A Knife’s Return

My island had been generous, but the easy loot was running out. If I wanted to thrive — or even just eat something different — I’d have to explore further afield. I wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment, but survival doesn’t really take “maybe later” as an answer.

While gathering materials for the journey, I spotted something glinting in the sand. It was my refined knife — the same one I’d apparently dropped days ago, possibly while fleeing a crab with attitude issues. I picked it up and welcomed it back into my inventory like an old friend who’d just wandered back from the pub.

I also discovered I could make a wooden farming plot. Long-term food production sounded fantastic… until I realised I didn’t have a hoe. That idea went straight onto my “future ambitions” list, somewhere between “build a smoker” and “stop capsizing my raft.”

The Fire Spit Betrayal

Finally, the fire spit was built, my visions of sizzling fish nearly within reach. I placed my catch over the fire and… nothing. Turns out the fire spit is not the universal cooking solution I hoped for. Apparently, fish require a more advanced setup — a smoker, or perhaps a deal with the culinary gods.

So the day ended with me sipping fresh water and eating yet more crab, while the dream of grilled fish drifted out to sea like an unanchored raft. Still, progress had been made: hydration secured, knife recovered, lesson learned.

Tomorrow, I’ll brave the sea and head for another island. If I find my way back here, great. If not… well, coconuts probably taste the same everywhere.

Continue the Journey

Day 1 |
Day 2 |
Day 3 (You Are Here) |
Final Day

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This Week on Survivor Incognito – From Frozen Lakes to Flooded Engines

Stranded Deep Day 2, a winning Dead by Daylight survivor build, The Long Dark Day 10, Subnautica Day 1, and SnowRunner Day 4—chaos included

This week was all about variety — and a little bit of chaos.

Sunburnt & Sinking – Day Two (Stranded Deep):
Water was scarce, knives kept breaking, and island life felt less “tropical paradise” and more “DIY dehydration challenge.”

Survivor’s Dread – Dead by Daylight:
I tried a survivor build that shouldn’t have worked on R.P.D.… and somehow it did. Consider me pleasantly confused and very alive.

The Cold Chronicles – Day Ten (The Long Dark):
The Voyageur dream continues: careful route planning, stubborn weather, and only the occasional questionable decision.

Submerged – Day One (Subnautica):
Ship explodes, pod catches fire, I jump into alien waters armed with optimism and a fire extinguisher. Classic first day energy.

Snowrunner Survival – Day Four:
More permagear trucking through icy mud. Reminder: “off-road” sometimes just means “off my sanity.”

Thanks for reading! If you like chill survival (with a side of chaos), stick around—more diaries and guides are on the way.

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The Cold Chronicles Day Ten: A Voyageur’s Tale of The Long Dark


The Cold Chronicles – Day 10: Ravine Roulette, Floating Deer, and Finally Mystery Lake

Day 10 in The Long Dark sees me teetering over the Ravine’s abyss, harvesting meat from a deer that’s apparently learned levitation, and finally—finally—reaching Mystery Lake. Bonus: new socks, because morale matters.

Missed the previous day? The Cold Chronicles Day Nine

Leaving the Trailer, Chasing the Horizon

I stepped out of the trailer at the Train Unloading area, the morning air biting in that way The Long Dark seems to enjoy. The plan was simple: follow the train tracks east until the Ravine transition zone, then cross into Mystery Lake. Simple plans in this game never stay simple.

The tracks carried me into the Ravine—beautiful in the kind of way that makes you briefly forget it’s also a death trap. Narrow ledges, collapsed rails, and drops you don’t get back up from. One balancing section across a busted bit of track nearly gave me a heart attack, but I made it across without testing the fall damage mechanics. Small victories.

The Floating Deer Incident

Birds circling in the distance caught my attention—never ignore free protein. I hiked over, expecting a standard carcass. Instead, I found a deer hovering several inches above the snow like it had unlocked some kind of ungulate wizardry.

I harvested the meat quickly, mostly to avoid breaking whatever fragile laws of nature were keeping it afloat. Then, in my post-butcher haze, I realized the deer had been “pointing” toward the right path all along. Thanks, floating friend.

Birch Bark and Bullet Rewards

Further along, a lone backpack waited at the edge of another narrow crossing. Inside: one revolver cartridge. Not much, but when you live in a world where bullets are basically gold, you don’t complain.

I also found an absurd amount of birch bark—seven pieces in total. If this run ends, it will not be because I ran out of tea. Deer hunting? Optional. Birch bark tea? Mandatory.

Mystery Lake at Last

The Ravine eventually spat me out onto the familiar terrain of Mystery Lake. Relief hit harder than the wind. I spotted a trailer and decided it would be my base for the night. Outside, I lit a fire, cooking up the deer meat and a rabbit I’d nabbed earlier. The smell alone was enough to make me feel like I was thriving rather than just surviving.

Inside, I scored a pair of climbing socks—a glorious upgrade from my starting sports socks. Harvested some spare clothes for cloth, then realized I’d left a rabbit steak outside. That’s tomorrow’s wolf bait or breakfast, depending on how fast I am in the morning.

I dropped my deer and rabbit hides, along with the guts, to start curing. Mystery Lake had officially welcomed me—with warmth, food, and better footwear.

Continue the journey: Day 9 | Day 11 – Coming Soon

More from The Long Dark:

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Sunburnt & Sinking – A Stranded Deep Survival Diary: Day Two

Sunburnt & Sinking: A Stranded Deep Survival Diary – Day 2

Difficulty: Normal
Optional Features: Permadeath enabled (naturally)

“Water is scarce, knives keep breaking, and coconuts betray me.”

Weather / Loot / Mood

  • Weather: Sunny with a calm breeze, deceptively inviting for a day of mistakes
  • Loot: Two refined knives (both broken), crude knife, potato crop, yucca fruit, several speared fish
  • Mood: Parched → resourceful → frustrated → plotting escape

Death by Dehydration and Knife-Based Regret

Day 2 started the way all my survival days seem to — fighting to stay alive with fewer resources than the average beach picnic. Water was the clear priority, so I cracked open a few coconuts to keep my hydration meter from flatlining. Just as I started to feel less like a dried-out husk and more like an actual human being… snap. My refined knife broke in my hand.

One second I had my most valuable tool, the next it was reduced to the kind of scrap metal you’d find washed up on a stormy shore. With it gone, my ability to gather resources properly took a nosedive, and I was back to square one.

Knife? Check. Brain? Debatable.

Thankfully, making a crude knife was easy enough. Unfortunately, I forgot that I could use that knife to craft another refined one. It was like having the solution in my pocket but refusing to read the instructions. In my defence, dehydration may have been quietly sabotaging my brain function.

When I finally pieced it together, I felt like the island’s least stylish blacksmith, reforging my refined knife like it was a lost relic. Feeling smug, I checked the crafting menu for new possibilities. A fire pit? Doable and quick. A water still? Perfect — except it needed cloth. And cloth, as far as I could tell, was rarer on this island than polite seagulls.

My Kingdom for a Rag

The water still became my new obsession. If I could build one, I’d solve my hydration issues for good. But without cloth, it was a dream just out of reach. I decided to prepare the other materials in advance, so all I’d need to do was slot the fabric into place once I found it.

In the process, I managed to break my second refined knife of the day. The culprit? The island’s one unyielding yucca tree, which I kept attacking like it was hiding a secret stash of loot. If anything, it only seemed to grow more smug about my failures. On the bright side, my scavenging turned up a potato crop and a yucca fruit — the makings of a future farm if I could ever get beyond the “not dying of thirst” stage of survival.

Spearfishing for Sadness

Needing a morale boost, I took to the ocean with a crude spear, ready to prove I could at least feed myself. The fish were easy enough to catch — a few quick jabs and they were mine. I strutted back to shore with my haul, already picturing a beachside fish roast.

That fantasy crumbled faster than my knives when I discovered my fire pit wasn’t suitable for cooking fish. Apparently, I needed something more advanced — a smoker, a spit, or possibly a degree in tropical culinary arts. The fish went into storage, and my dreams went up in smoke without ever lighting the fire.

As the sun set, I stared out toward the horizon. Tomorrow, I’d choose an island and head for it. Either it would have cloth, or I’d be stuck crafting a distress flag out of coconut husks, stubborn yucca bark, and pure spite.

Continue the Journey

Day 1 |
Day 2 (You Are Here) |
Day 3 |
Final Day

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Choo Choo Charles – Day One Diary: Eugene, Eggs, and Accidental Manslaughter

My Choo Choo Charles day one diary includes a monster-hunting job, a sprinting NPC, and Eugene’s untimely (and possibly avoidable) demise.

The Job Offer That Should’ve Been a Red Flag

I got a call from Eugene. Said he had a job that would help “my museum.” Didn’t specify how, didn’t ask if I had museum experience, just told me it was time to go monster hunting. I should’ve asked questions. Like “what kind of monster?” or “why me?” or “have you ever heard of hazard pay?”

Instead, I said yes.

Meet Charles: Part Locomotive, Part Arachnid, All Nightmare Fuel

I found myself rowing to a misty, ominous island with Eugene casually explaining that we’re up against a half-train, half-gigaspider named Charles.
Cool. Totally normal Saturday

Upon docking, Eugene says there’s a train up the hill we can use — but also notes Charles isn’t the only thing to worry about. Then he bolts. Full sprint. No hesitation. Just gone. I’m used to NPCs dragging their feet, not outpacing me like they’ve got somewhere better to be.

Learning the Ropes (and the Rail Controls)

Eugene points me to a nearby shack with the key to access the train. This is where I learn how to use the map and set waypoints. Handy, and slightly more intuitive than most in-game maps.

I return with the key, unlock the garage, and meet my new metal ride. It’s already equipped with a mounted machine gun and has three levers: forward, reverse, and stop. That’s it. No cup holder. No horn. No emotional support buttons.

First Encounter: Train vs. Terror

I hit the forward lever and the train lurches ahead — straight into my first encounter with Charles.

Cue panic.

The gun works, technically. But it does about as much damage as a water pistol might do to a tank. Charles shrugs it off, mauls Eugene mid-sentence, and disappears into the fog.

I’m left alone. On a moving train. Slightly traumatised.

About That Stopping Distance…

After the chaos, I check the map to reorient myself and decide to go back to Eugene — assuming he’s maybe clinging to life. I reverse the train and, thinking I’ve lined it up just right, I slam the stop lever.

I do not stop in time.

I run over Eugene.

It’s unclear whether Charles killed him or if I finished the job by turning him into railkill. Either way, his final words croak out — something about finding the eggs and stopping Charles once and for all.

No pressure.

If you enjoyed this one, please check out my other Day One Diaries | Survival Game Playthroughs & First-Day Survival Challenges

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Customloper Diaries Day Five: Moose-terious Happenings

Customloper Diaries – Day 5: Moose Standoff, Bullet Disappointment, and Frostbite Gordon Ramsay

Weather: Overcast → blizzard remnants → cold, tense calm
Loot Highlights: 32 revolver bullets (without the revolver), coffee, stew ingredients
Mood: Caffeine-fueled paranoia

◀ Missed Day 4? Read it here  | 
What is Customloper?

Moose-terious Happenings and Bullet Mockery

I wake up cold, hypothermic, and shivering in a shelter that feels like it’s holding back winter by sheer stubbornness. Outside, the air is still heavy with yesterday’s storm. I light a torch—not for light, but for morale—and step outside to grab sticks for a fire.

That’s when I hear it. A low, deliberate snort. Snow crunching under something big. My brain takes about two seconds to put it together: the Moose is still here. Still patrolling. Still grumpy. All I’ve got is a flare gun, three flares, and zero confidence this will be anything but moose-poking practice.

Later research confirmed flare guns actually can scare or even injure moose. At the time, though, I pictured wasting all three shots and ending up as hoof-print art in the snow.

Sidebar: Flare Guns vs Wildlife

  • Wolves: Scared of everything, including your hesitation. Flare gun = instant retreat.
  • Bears: Works if you’re quick and accurate. Miss, and you’ve just upgraded it to “angry bear.”
  • Moose: Vulnerable, but charging moose leave little margin for error. Pray your aim is better than your panic management.

Fire, Coffee, and False Confidence

I retreat inside, break down a couple of stools, and get a fire going. Coffee brews while my temperature climbs from “freezer aisle” to “slightly uncomfortable.” Caffeine courage in place, I decide to make another break for it.

I crack the door. Two cautious steps outside—then I hear it again. This time I actually see the moose, casually stomping away from me like it owns the place. Which, frankly, it does.

I seize the chance to sneak toward the picnic area, hoping I’ll finally find a revolver or rifle. Spoiler: no. Just more snow, more silence, and the nagging sense I’m on borrowed time.

Panic Sprint to Orca

Plan B forms in my head: head to Orca Gas Station and regroup. The snow crunches under my boots, the wind whistles between the trees—and then I hear a noise behind me. Could be the wind. Could be antlers. I don’t check. I just run. Full panic sprint, torch flaring wildly, straight to Orca’s door.

Inside, adrenaline still in overdrive, I make a silent vow: if I live through this, I’ll cook everything I can get my hands on. Meals will be my legacy.

Bullets Without a Gun

The walk back to Grey Mother’s is uneventful, which feels like winning the lottery. I throw myself into cooking: rabbit stew, venison stew, boiling water—anything to nudge my Cooking skill higher. Somewhere in the process, I drop off 32 revolver bullets into storage. The universe clearly thinks this is funny.

Three separate attempts to repair my climbing socks all fail. Morale drops. I sweep Grey Mother’s house again just in case a revolver is hiding in the corner. It’s not.

I end the day reading a book to boost my harvesting skill, the flickering lantern light casting long shadows. Outside, the moose is probably still wandering. Inside, I’m still stubborn, still alive, still armed with only a flare gun and misplaced optimism.

Day 5 Summary

  • Location: Milton Region
  • Finds: 32 revolver bullets, coffee, stew ingredients
  • Wildlife Watch: Persistent moose
  • Conditions: Cold and tense
  • Status: Warm, fed, moose-adjacent

Continue the Journey

◀ Customloper Diaries – Day 4: Prybars, Pancake Plans, and the Blizzard Lock-In
Customloper Diaries – Day 6 ▶

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Sunburnt & Sinking – A Stranded Deep Survival Diary: Day One

Sunburnt & Sinking: A Stranded Deep Survival Diary – Day 1

Difficulty: Normal
Optional Features: Permadeath enabled (naturally)

“Crash-landed on an island, I fight crabs, climb trees, and light my first fire. Survival starts with chaos, coconuts, and questionable plants.”

Weather / Loot / Mood

  • Weather: Calm seas, light breeze, deceptively peaceful for a day of disaster
  • Loot: Raft, crude knife, refined knife, coconuts, crab meat, basic shelter
  • Mood: Shocked → determined → mildly suspicious of the local wildlife

Would You Kindly Not Crash the Plane?

One moment, I was minding my own business on a plane. The next, someone must have read a note that said “would you kindly…” and down we went. If you know, you know. Coincidence? I think not.

Seconds later, I was dragging myself into a life raft, paddling (drifting?) toward the nearest island like a discount version of Tom Hanks in *Cast Away*. The ocean was calm, the sun was shining, and I had no idea that half the local wildlife would soon want me dead.

First Rule of Raft Club: Don’t Let It Float Away

I hit the shore and immediately dragged the raft up onto the sand. I’ve played enough survival games to know that if you don’t secure your transport, the game will absolutely make it vanish the second you turn your back. Raft secured, I went into scavenger mode, grabbing sticks, rocks, and whatever else looked remotely useful.

Not everything on this island was friendly. A particularly aggressive bush took a swipe at me as I got too close. I backed off, wounded in both pride and possibly my spleen. Clearly, the flora here had opinions about trespassers.

Knife to Meet You, Crabs

With my gathered resources, I crafted my first knife. Then I upgraded it to a refined knife, because the first one felt about as dangerous as a butter spreader. Time to test it out on something edible.

The game suggested crouching to hunt crabs. This, in practice, only made it easier for them to lunge at me. One particularly large crab came at me with the kind of aggression usually reserved for boss fights. Between this and the thorny bush, I was starting to wonder if the island had a “kill the newcomer” policy.

Still, I won the skirmish, and with crab meat in hand, it was time to cook. The war, however, was far from over.

Fire Good. Cooking Skill Better.

I built a campfire near the raft and fed it with sticks. Fire is life in survival games, and here was no exception. Apparently, just standing near it while food cooked would boost my Cooking skill — which meant I was now becoming a chef by proximity.

While the crab sizzled, I spotted a palm tree loaded with coconuts. In true castaway fashion, I scaled it like it owed me money, hacked down my prize, and enjoyed my first proper drink. Hydration secured. Hunger in progress.

The crab revenge counter was still open, but for now, I was alive and marginally full.

Shelter from the Darkness

As the sun dipped toward the horizon, I remembered one important fact: in Stranded Deep, you need a shelter to save the game. I went hunting for materials, avoiding the aggressive bush and giving any large crabs a suspicious side-eye.

One stubborn yucca plant refused to yield anything useful, so I abandoned it for a more cooperative one. A few resource-gathering trips later, I had what I needed. The shelter went up just as darkness settled over the island. I saved, collapsed into sleep, and mentally ticked off the tutorial as “complete.”

Tomorrow, the real work would begin: more tools, better food, and figuring out exactly how many plants on this island were actively trying to kill me. Bring it on, Stranded Deep.

Continue the Journey

Day 1 (You Are Here) |
Day 2 |
Day 3 |
Final Day

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The Cold Chronicles Day Nine: A Voyageur’s Tale of The Long Dark

The Cold Chronicles – Day 9: Bears, Bunnies, and Blizzard Dodging

Difficulty: Voyageur
Optional Features: Cougar enabled (still lurking… somewhere)

Day 9 in Coastal Highway brings a near-bear encounter, a rabbit triumph, and a warm trailer evening. Still not at Mystery Lake — but at least I’m well-fed, slightly warmer, and marginally better at sewing socks.

Missed Day 8? Read it here.

Still Not Mystery Lake

I woke to a stillness that felt suspicious. No howling wind, no wolves pacing outside — just quiet. That’s usually when the game decides to spring something on you.

Determined to make a second attempt at reaching Mystery Lake, I packed up and retraced yesterday’s route. The wolf from Day 8 was gone, which should have been a relief, but nature likes balance. In the wolf’s place? A bear. Of course.

It was lumbering near the path, swaying its head like it owned the place — which, to be fair, it did. I froze. When it didn’t spot me, I slowly backed up the slope to my right. This wasn’t cowardice, this was strategy. The slope spat me out at the cabins the bear had been guarding the day before. I swept through them quickly, but they held little worth taking: a few tins, some thread, and an old hoodie with more holes than fabric.

Rabbit > Trailer

Heading further down the trail, I spotted a trailer and made a mental note to check it out. Then I spotted rabbits. And just like that, the trailer was forgotten. I crouched, aimed, and — miracle of miracles — hit one. Bagging small game in this weather felt like winning the survival lottery.

By the time I’d harvested it, the trailer was a few minutes behind me. I considered going back but decided to keep pushing forward. Momentum in The Long Dark is fragile — stop too long, and you’ll talk yourself into a nap instead of a trek.

Shelter from the Storm

Another trailer appeared just as the weather turned. Inside, I found a jerry can. Heavy, useful, but not worth the burden today. I left it behind with a mental bookmark in case my fuel stores ran low later.

Outside, the wind had picked up. Snow swirled, biting into any exposed skin. My pace slowed to a crawl, every step feeling like I was dragging my boots through wet cement. The landscape faded into muted greys — that in-between stage before a blizzard hits where you have just enough time to regret your choices.

I stumbled into the Train Unloading area in Coastal Highway just as the light began to fail. There was no way I was pressing on to Mystery Lake in these conditions unless I wanted to end up as tomorrow’s beachcombing loot.

Good news: there was another trailer here. Better news: it had an intact stove. Even better news: no wolves inside.

Hot Meal and Light Reading

I set up shop outside the trailer. The rabbit carcass became a proper meal — cooked meat, boiling water, even a little stockpile for the morning. As the fire crackled, I pulled out my sewing book and read by the flickering light. Sewing Level 2: achieved. I’m still not turning out runway fashion, but I might be able to patch my socks without making them worse.

With the wind howling outside, the trailer felt almost cosy. I had a belly full of rabbit, a few litres of water cooling beside me, and just enough optimism to think tomorrow might finally be the day I reach Mystery Lake.

Maybe. Unless the bear decides to relocate. Or the weather decides to remind me who’s in charge. So… probably not.

Continue the journey:
Day 8 |
Day 10
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