Don't Starve doesn't belong to me. Obviously.
Frequent language. Potential violence. Insanity. I pull no punches.
Day 3 - In Which Loneliness and Insanity Are Not Too Far Apart
The night felt too short last night, and yet I was not unhappy. Today feels too long already, and the sun hasn't even set yet. I ended up in the midst of a marsh this morning... got scratched rather badly. Vines are heavier than they look, and they aren't as combustible as one would like.
But I found some ingredients to finally make paper. Not all is lost.
I'm preserving what I can right now. Berries are plentiful, the days are long, and I'm not at a loss for kindling. But that could change tomorrow morning when I wake up, so I can't afford to be frivolous.
All that remains to tell me where I've been are my muddy footprints. Even those will disappear soon enough.
I'm tired already. My tongue feels pasty and I can't shake the unbearable paranoia threatening to flatten me.
Something is out there. What is it? And where has Maxwell gone?
I cannot dwell any longer. I must go now and prepare for night to fall.
-Willow
