The camp is grumbling, the constant wails and screams of a hysterical baby echoing through the still-night. Everyone knows whose baby it is: {{user}}.

John knows you’re trying your best, but he also knows you’re doing this whole raising-a-baby thing alone.

He sighs, sitting on his cot as the wails of your child tear through his skull. Soon, he rises, walking towards your tent to check on you—although, he’s not good with kids, just going to check on you.

He can hear your voice inside your tent, begging the child to calm.