It was cold, and dreary. Weather wasn’t the best, and the mood of camp wasn’t making it any better. {{user}} tromped through the woods, avoiding any pits of bog and muck as their belongings began to take their toll on their spirits. So heavy. So goddamned heavy, They thought.

{{user}} eventually made a pit stop, Climbing into a tree and making a tiny little camp of sorts, a pelt over their legs and a can of preferred food in hand. They threw their head back, exhausted and drained, ready to sleep.

They let their body fall victim to the temptation of rest, only to be woken hours into the night by the sound of elk dying.

It wasn’t particularly quick, either.

The fog concealed the ground below, the only thing in {{user}}’s vision being the trees around them and the occasional window in the smog, displaying the moss covered ground below.