Our own mortality


Wastelander

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This is from quite a while ago, so details can be a bit fuzzy sometimes. However, this doesn't change the morale of the story....

I was going strong. I had a pile of everything - wood, food, crafting materials, tools, rifle rounds, you name it, I had it. I was a made man in the apocalypse. Had there been others to barter with, I could've been called rich. I enjoyed my days in Mystery Lake. I may have gotten a little insane, considering the fact I regularly named corpses around the map - Carl in the Camp Office was my best buddy.

I felt invincible.

I was on a scavenging run, because my medicine supplies were, well, not low, but not up to my perfectionism either. I only took the bare necessities with me - knife, clothes, prybar, food and drink for two days. I spotted a wolf, and it spotted me. 'I can do this' I thought to myself.

For some reason or another, I couldn't.

This made me think. Think about our own mortality. We take things for granted nowadays, not facing the cold embrace of death every breathing second.

I'll just let that stand.

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20 hours ago, Tbone555 said:

be that as it may, you went down defending our place on the food chain! ;)

"Be that as it may, you went down defending the glorious motherland!" I guess the soviet soldiers weren't relieved by this...

But I appreciate the thought, you know. :)

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Just now, Tbone555 said:

well i dunno about anyone else, but im not about to let some mangy mutt get the best of me! :crosseye:

I remember the first time I brandished a torch against a wolf and heard good ol' Will shout "You wanna start this?". Such a powerful moment, and what you said basically summed it up. I ain't no piece of dog food. No, you, dog, are MY food!

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