06-13-2012, 11:09 PM
He was two hours in when a freak storm just started pouring, and he was about to cross a mile long meadow. Or, at least it looked like it. "I'm not taking any chances," he said to himself. He paused, and thought that he needs a pack soon or he's gonna go crazy. Or just lonely. Either way, he starts setting up a makeshift tent out of branches and leaves. By the time he's done, it looks like you would get drenched if you stepped out for five seconds. He glares at the cloud-ridden sky and just asks, "Why, just, why?" He settled in his makeshift tent for a long night. I guess they call it the Dampwoods for a reason he mused in his head. Eventually he nodded off, until tomorrow.