Day 3 : "Useless"

A day. I had lost a day.

A full day of nothing but grogged numbness in my arm and my stomach. For a full day I had not moved from the wooden room, and therefore I had not eaten. Three days now, and I had hardly eaten.

My arm had bled profusely the night before. Had I not snapped out of the dizziness, I may very well be dead now. Working quickly, I bandaged myself with a mixture of cloth from my coat, some remaining leather, and some wool. It stung, but it would keep it cleaner than the open air. I could only hope that the monster from two nights ago was not about to spread infection from its seeping pores.


I lay awake in the heap of wool, and look through the open roof. Stars faded into sky as I made my way cautiously through the door. No signs of spiders or zombies this morning, but I needed something to do to survive.

For now, while admiring the cliff sides that surround my new home, I cut down a tree for some more wood, and planted oen of the fallen saplings in its place. Perhaps a new tree would grow in this environment, without my aid. There were plenty of other trees up on the cliff side, and along the shore, but it was better effort out of pity than no effort at all.


I walked back inside with the new wood, and got to work on some more tools. With all the rock around, I needed a pick -- the rock was soft, and hopefully something as pitiful as wood would do well to break it, if not with a little added effort. I had also put together a hoe for future use; clearly I could not survive on animal flesh alone. Strange, though, how pigs and sheep were the only wildlife I had seen. Perhaps over the cliff behind me were other varieties of wildlife. Hopefully nothing wanting of my death.



With some leftover wood I made a small container for materials, so I didn't need to lug it all around with me. Clearly I needed to save my strength for my own body, and not unneeded material ownership. I stored what I could, and took my pick along with me, to see if I could mine something better to defend myself with than just wood and leather. Maybe copper or tin.


Looking around small cave near my house, I found a small deposit of something that seemed to gleam with what little light there was. it was grainy in texture, and light brown in color... copper, perhaps? Testing the water's depth, I brought myself closer, and swung my pick with all the strength that I had.


The wall cracked, and water gushed through. It obscured the light from the mineral I had seen, and quickly went to work in its attempts to drown me. I fought with all the might I had, until finally I found my way out. the cavern was flooded, and my findings were lost.

The sun set quickly. Even time was against me here. I noticed a pattern in the few days I was here; during the day I was safe, and at night footsteps echoed. It was clear to me, when the sun set I need head home. I needed my rest more than anything. I could only hope that I could sleep through the noises at night.


I got to work with some leather and fashioned myself a helmet. With some wood, I made bowls. With sticks and string, I made a bow.


But what good were these things? As useful as I was, and clearly without any value.