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Old March 3rd, 2013, 08:18 AM
Cutlerine
Gone. May or may not return.
 
Join Date: Mar 2010
Location: The Misspelled Cyrpt
Age: 20
Gender:
Nature: Impish
> Open the window to let the smoke out, and After the smoke is gone, preform an ancient pagan ritual to please Tabiti and for good luck in the hunt.
> Open a window or two to let the smoke out, just keep an eye on them so no unwanted nasties can invade your temporary shelter. Once the smoke does clear out, or assuming it does, perform a ritual to your goddess Tabiti. She has been at least remotely helpful so far and she deserves some recognition. Just make sure the ritual does not include a blood sacrifice because she is the goddess of animals and fire.


You open two of the windows, which seems to go some way to dispersing the smoke (although you'd still rather not stand up in here) but which does admit a bit of a draught. The intense heat of the eldritch fire offsets this nicely, though, and you begin to feel like you might actually be getting the hang of this whole 'postapocalyptic survival' thing.

At least, you're assuming it's postapocalyptic. Despite your earlier clue that there are at least a few other survivors, Johto does seem to have suffered some kind of major disaster.

Perhaps praying to a nonexistent goddess you're using to make yourself feel better will maintain your current run of good luck.

Othodox's Devotion has improved!

Othodox is now Looked Upon with Loving Eyes by Tabiti!


> Cook and eat the ham bone and place the damp stick near the flame but not where it can burn to dry.

You spit the Hambone on a stick and suspend it over the fire to cook. It will probably take a while; it's pretty big. The damp branch you place just far enough from the fire that the weirdly aggressive flames won't jump onto it, and you're gratified almost immediately by the sight of steam rising gently from its sides.

Man, that Hambone is starting to smell good.

You hadn't quite realised how hungry you were until you smelled that. I mean, you had a cookie this morning, but you've had no food since then and, well, that was just a cookie. This is freaking meat. Proper food. The kind of food your caveman ancestors ripped off the back of a woolly rhino and charred black on the outside before plunging it, dripping glorious fatty juices, straight into their waiting mouths.

All right, steady on. You seem to be taking the idea of being a manly survivalist far more seriously than someone who's almost died at least four times today has any right to take it.

The rich smell of cooking meat and woodsmoke fills the house and lends a warmth to you beyond that of the fire. You sigh contentedly, for a moment forgetting your problems, and relax against your cushion.

Things really couldn't get much better.
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