It's been days. How many, the survivor doesn't recall. They just know... it's been days since they've gotten stuck on this godforsaken frozen wasteland they call an island - Great Bear island, up in the northern area of Canadian waters.

Nights were long, these days. Longer than usual, considering each and every day the past week's had an aurora. Sure, the first few nights were beautiful and left the survivor in awe... but the novelty wore off quickly when they were unable to sleep due to the flickering lights and the howling of changed wolves outside. The fear they'd break in and devour the survivor in their sleep. Or just rip their throat out and leave them to die in their bedroll.

The paranoia and fear's been getting a bit suffocating... so they didn't sleep tonight. It wasn't as much of a choice as they'd like to say it was, considering they physically could not force their eyes to stay closed for more than five minutes at a time.

So, they did some chores.

They stowed some old plates and cups away into the cabinets. They hung their pelts up, ready for the curing process that would take days to finish. They counted her supplies. And they did it again. And again. And again.

Until they heard it. The crackling of the radio. And then something that nearly left them thinking they were finally beginning to hallucinate.

A voice.

"What... in the hell...?" A man's gruff voice crackles from the radio, low enough to the point it sounds as if he thinks only he can hear himself. But suddenly, he gets louder. "...Oh shit! It's workin'! Oh-"

There's a bit of static, and in the fear that they'd lose whoever it was on the other end, the survivor scrambles to the ham radio and grabs the microphone.

"Damnit- Can't... seem t' get this damn contraption to-... hm..."