Rose's Log


YoungWolf

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>Day 10... I think.
    During these long days I often find myself with plenty of free time, so I thought I'd start writing a log, keep track of events, that sort of thing. Maybe I'll reflect on it if I make it out of here alive. Maybe someone will find it and know what happened to me. Who knows.
    My name is Rose. I am a bush pilot for the Great Bear region. Well, was a bush pilot. If my memory is correct, about 10 days ago I was flying over and something I cannot explain happened. The sky lit up like a match, auroras all over. It would've been beautiful, had it not fried my plane's electronics like an egg for breakfast. A crash landing was inevitable, and though I don't remember the details of the crash too well, I must've landed it fairly well, as I'm alive to write this. The next thing I knew I found myself out in the snow, half frozen-to-death. I haven't any idea why my plane went down, or why the auroras were so intense that night.
    After I gathered my thoughts, I tried to take in my surroundings. I was near Milton, a dilapitaded old logging town I'd flown over once or twice. I didn't know the area too well, but I found a road and followed it. This led me to a church, where I warmed up for a bit, and found a few bits and pieces of supplies, including an old bolt-action rifle (odd find for a place of God) with no bullets. Ammunition would've come in handy, as not long afterward I had my first run-in with wolves.
    I've lived in Canada a long time. Wolves are common, beautiful, and generally fearful of humans. Not these ones. They have no fear. I don't know if hunger has driven them to desperation, or if they're just braver than most, but they're hunters. The first one I ran into just outside the church attacked me immediately. I drove it off, but not without suffering a few wounds in the process. Inside the church I caught my breath and treated my injuries with some medical supplies I had managed to find inside, and decided to move on. I followed the road, and eventually came to Milton. 
    The town is deserted, and most of the buildings have fallen apart. I don't know how long it's been like this, but surely people couldn't have just up and left too long ago? There are cars parked all over the roads, and the electronics inside are fried. None of the lights in Milton or the church worked either. This leads me to believe that whatever happened to my plane wasn't an isolated incident.
    So, for the last 10 days I've held out in Milton, desperately hoarding firewood, food, and water as best I can. I've found enough clothes to keep out the cold in most weather, and rabbit and cattail are plentiful enough around here. But so are wolves. Yesterday I came down with what I expect was food poisoning, and after drinking some Reishi tea I was exploring the town when a wolf approached. I held up inside the local post office, which is where I currently write this. My stomach seems to have settled down, so the tea must've done the trick. I can only hope that tomorrow goes better, and that I don't end up as food for the wolves. I've seen a few lone wolves here and there, but I can confirm that there is a pack of no less than three at a time that roams the area. It may be in my best interest to pack up and head for a safer location soon, but I lost my map in the crash, and I'm not too familiar with this part of Great Bear, so I have no clue where I'd go. Maybe if I can find a radio I can signal for help, but I suspect that any electronics I would manage to find wouldn't work anyways. We'll see.
   
>Day 11--Rabbits and Wolves
    Found some food in some of the buildings around Milton, and also found 2 rabbits. Got one of them, but today was particularly cold and windy, and I almost let the cold get to me. As I made my way back, I saw a wolf bring down a deer. That lucky bastard will stay fed for days.
    A lone wolf in town ambushed me, and was on me before I could do anything. My many layers of clothing were thick enough to protect me from any harm, and I believe I landed a fatal blow deep in the beast's neck with my hatchet, but he ran off. I headed home, gutted and skinned the rabbit, and sewed up some of the holes in my clothes before heading back out (fortunately the wind had died down quite a bit by then). I was right about the wolf: I found his body not far from where he ran off. He gave me plenty of meat and some hide, and I left what remained of him out in the open. Maybe it's a crazy thought, but perhaps it'll discourage some of the other wolves in the area from lingering around.
    After I got his meat back home, I explored the area behind Milton, where I found a radio tower and a cave. At the base of the radio tower was a supply crate which held a box of water purification tablets. The cave, besides being a possible future shelter if needed, held a bedroll, an empty backpack, and, most importantly, several lumps of coal that could extend the life of my fires. Outside the cave is a frozen pond, where rabbits scavenged amidst cattail stalks. I caught a rabbit there, and left the others be. I made my way back home just as night fell, and a just as I arrived at the cabin I heard the eerie howl of a wolf, far too close for comfort. 
    I butchered the rabbit from the pond inside, cooked his meat, and enjoyed it for dinner. It was lean, but any meat is a blessing to me. Today was a good day.
    
>Day 12--Snowed In
    I started the day by heading out to the rabbit pond, hoping to try my hand at climbing some rock walls I'd seen yesterday. I caught a rabbit, but a light snowfall turned the day cold fast, and I sought shelter inside the nearby cave. I lit a fire, warmed up, gutted the rabbit, and cooked its meat, enjoying it as a snack before I laid down to try and wait out the cold. When I awoke, however, the light dusting had turned into a heavy blizzard; visibility was poor, and the cold cut straight through my layered clothing. I decided the cave was far too exposed to stay in without my dying fire, so I headed back home, watching my footing as I descended the steep mountain into Milton. Back inside, I cooked up the wolf meat from yesterday and ate a few cuts. The meat, while savory, was also quite gamey, and I fear that consuming too much of it may cause me to fall ill with some sort of parasite. Tomorrow I'll leave the meat out in the cold to try and preserve it further while I try to supplement my diet with something less questionable.
    
>Day 13--Bullets, Beasts, and Hope
    I  awoke a couple of hours before dawn to a crackling sound, and an eerie green glow outside. Stepping out, I found the night sky lit up in the purples and greens of the auroras. Most strangely, however, I found that the lights of Milton--from the lamps mounted outside the homes, to the headlights and brakelights of ruined cars--were lit up like firecrackers...why? Perhaps the auroras are affecting the electronics somehow? Though the blizzard had subsided the air was still biting cold, but I made my way carefully to one of the cars, stashing the wolf meat in the trunk. Then I thought, 'If the lights work, then maybe the radio does too!' I clambered inside the cab, and switched the radio on. Silence. Too excited to be discouraged, I desperately tuned into every station on the dial, hoping, praying to hear a broadcast, news of help, news of anything. Nothing. Despair filled my heart, though I shouldn't have been surprised: the radio tower by the pond was falling apart, and wouldn't have been able to broadcast much--
    Then I heard it. Faint, but unmistakable. Crackling from the car's stereo came the sound of music. It was some sort of eerie, peaceful sound. I listened, hoping afterwards there would be some voice, any voice. There was not. Only more silence. But this little bit of humanity drove the despair from my heart, and gave me a sliver of hope. If a radio tower somewhere is operational enough to broadcast, then maybe there are people there trying to maintain it. There must be someone out there. Rescue will surely come. I just have to make it long enough for it to arrive.
    At daybreak I made my way out of Milton, towards a farmhouse I'd seen a few times. Wolves had chased me off before, but I knew there was a workbench there, and I was hoping the tools at the bench might help me put some snares together with some of the cured guts I'd stockpiled at the cabin. As soon as I arrived at the farm, sure enough, a pair of wolves appeared as if from nowhere. I tried to enter the farmhouse, but found the door locked. I was saved from conflict, however, by a rabbit that chanced by, providing the wolves with an easier meal than I would've. I circled around the farmhouse to put some distance between myself and the distracted wolves, and came upon a sad sight: a frozen body, facedown in the snow, hands blackened by frostbite. The sight turned my stomach, but I forced myself to keep from vomiting. Calories are too scarce to waste on retching. 
    I couldn't tell how long the body had been there, but it was frozen solid. I could see signs of wolf bites all over the poor man, and I assume that he met his end at the jaws of the beasts, maybe even the ones on the other side of the house. Steeling myself, I searched the man's pockets, and found a key. I also grabbed a hatchet that had been laying at his side; his, presumably. Carefully making my way around the house, wary of wolves, I returned to the front porch and inserted the key into the lock of the front door. It turned, and the bolt slid open. Thank God.
    Inside was treasure. Food, clothes, lighter fluid, a stove, all sorts of things that would make for a good home. But most importantly, I found three, lonely .303 caliber bullets. Rounds that would fit the rifle I found last week. Three bullets aren't nearly enough, but it's a godsend as far as I'm concerned.
    I left the house, and came face to face with one of the wolves. I tried to scare him off with a rock, but he was upon me before I could even throw it. I hit him, hard, with my hatchet, and he ran off, much like the one from two days ago. I saw his friend wandering around not far off, but disinterested. The farm's barn was close by, so I wandered to it, where I made a cozy fire and managed to put together a couple of snares. Next, I tracked the wounded wolf's blood trail, at the end of which I found him, dead. I quartered the meat, gutted and skinned him, and took the parts inside the farmhouse. At this point, however, I had to consider the second wolf outside... If I wanted to make a camp out of the farmhouse, I wouldn't want to be worried about him. If I set up any snares nearby, he would no doubt devour any catch in the night. I was well equipped and strengthened. I could take on this beast.
        I headed back outside, and found the second wolf not long after. He approached, growling over the howling wind, but my resolve was strong. He pounced, but I was ready. The struggle was swift--he bit my leg, but I bashed the side of his skull with my hatchet. He ran off, and I knew I had found my mark. I headed back inside, in pain, but swelling with pride. I treated my wounds quickly. I wouldn't want an infection to sully my victory. 
        I busied myself with miscellaneous tasks for about a half an hour before returning outside, where I quickly found my fallen foe. He now sits in the farmhouse freezer, quartered and awaiting butchering. I feel good. I've accomplished much today, and for what seems like the first time, I am optimistic. Tomorrow I'll begin the task of moving some of my things from the cabin in Milton to the farmhouse, as well as setting out the snares and gathering firewood.
        
>Day 14--Moving Day
    I spent most of the day moving things from the cabin in Milton to the farmhouse, though I managed to catch a rabbit (which I enjoyed for dinner along with a few granola bars and some water), as well as gather up some firewood. My hatchet is starting to become dangerously dull; hopefully I'll find a whetstone soon, as the poor soul outside the farmhouse's hatchet wasn't in great condition either. 
    Speaking of poor souls, I found another corpse frozen to a rock face a stone's throw from the farmhouse. No doubt these must've been former inhabitants who met their end. May they rest in peace.
    It felt so, so good to load those three precious rounds into my rifle this morning. The satisfying click of the bolt shutting was music to my ears. And then, as if they were mana from the heavens, I spotted three grazing bucks close to the farmhouse. If I'm accurate enough with that rifle, that's three great sources of food and hide. I ran out of sewing needles and thread the other day, so making clothes from the wildlife seems like my best bet for staying warm at this point. I just need to make those bullets count.
    I found a sign that read "Paradise Meadows Farm". An apt name for my new home.
    
>Day 15--Rabbits, Forage, and a Triumphant Return
    I spent the day out and about, foraging for firewood and getting the lay of the land. I've been trying to keep a map up to date so as to better know my surroundings, and it's beginning to come together quite well. I headed up towards the old church, where I spent my first few nights. Those were hard times, and yet it was only two weeks ago. I remember going hungry, recovering from wolf attacks, and fearing for my life. That church kept me alive though. It gave me my first tools, my first shelter, and my most valuable tool: my rifle. Inside the church I found sign of my stay there: several cured rabbit pelts and guts. I thanked my past self, gathered them up, and marked the area on my map. 
    Back outside I bagged a pair of rabbits, gathered some more firewood, and headed back to the farmhouse as the day began to fade. A light snow was falling, and I hope that doesn't bode another blizzard; I need to gather more firewood and check my snares tomorrow, if nothing else.
    In my downtime I've been reading a firearms manual, and hopefully it'll give me some valuable tips for taking the shot whenever I decide to take down one of those deer on the outskirts of the farm.
    Things have been going so well for me of late that I fear I may become overconfident. Overconfidence has cost many souls their lives in situations like these, so I must be sure to remember to exercise caution in all I do, and prepare for when times do not go so well for me.
      
>Day 16--Happy Hunting
    Today marks a monumental achievment for me. I bagged a deer.
    After ensuring my rifle was loaded with those three precious rounds and spending another hour reading up on my shooting manual, I crept up on the three grazing deer I've been watching for these last couple of days. I used a waist-high snowbank as cover, and barely looked over it to see one not a stone's throw away. I raised my rifle ever so slowly, and waited for the perfect shot. My untrained hands were shaky in the cold, but I knew missing meant losing one of only three bullets. I could not let myself miss. I pulled the trigger.
    At first I feared the worst--a miss. But as the deer collapsed, a rush of elation filled me. I sprinted over to its corpse as the other deer fled, and found that my bullet had entered on the left side of its skull and exited on the right: as clean a kill as one could make. I could barely control my excitement as I quartered the animal's meat (this process took an hour, and while it was cold outside, I was happy, and didn't mind much at all). I've left three sacks of meat in the bed of a ruined pickup truck near the farmhouse, hopefully the wolves won't be able to touch it. I haven't seen any since I killed the two outside the farmhouse, but if there are any in the area, no doubt the scent of fresh deer meat will attract them. Later in the day this fear was realized as I saw, I think, five wolves descending the snow banks towards my farm. A definite problem. If given the opportunity, I will move the meat quarters elsewhere. We'll see.

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On 2/2/2018 at 8:54 PM, YoungWolf said:

Thanks! Sometimes I worry I may be going a bit overboard on how descriptive I am, but oh well haha. Glad you like it so far!

A lot more descriptive than some of the other ones I've seen! And that's a good thing.

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