307 Final

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Lightning crackles across the sky. The nightly screams assault the wanderer's mental fortress once again. [[They Endure|start-endure]] [[They Relent|start-relent]]

<<run setIsEnduring(true)>> Their focus redoubles as the walls are pommeled again and again, grimacing with each subsequent impact. And moment by moment the wanderer endures, slowly but surely making it [[through the night|wake]].

<<run setIsEnduring(false)>> Exhausted, they lower their barriers, allowing the voices to rush inside. They collapse backwards as the screams begin to tear them to shreds once again. [[As they deserve|wake]].

<<run window.setTAC("tutorial")>> They survey their camp. Havan, their raven, studies them quizzically. <<linkappend "They pet Havan">> The raven closes its eyes gratefully as the wanderer provides mandatory chin scritches.<</linkappend>> Time to pack up. <<for _i to 0; _i lt $thingsAtCamp.length; _i++>> <<= $thingsAtCamp[_i].getDescription()>> <</for>>

<<if $currentWeather === "rainy">>They once again survey the remaining campsite to the calm pattering of a subdued drizzle.<<else>>They squint, once again surveying the remaining campsite.<</if>> <<if $thingsAtCamp.length gt 0>> <<for _i to 0; _i lt $thingsAtCamp.length; _i++>> <<= $thingsAtCamp[_i].getDescription()>> <</for>><<else>> <<if $tidbits >= $tidbitCap>> <<set $returnAddress to "run-encounter">> A ghost of the past creeps up the wanderer's spine. With a gasp, they're consumed by [[a memory|run-backstory]]... <<else>> [[Time to go|run-encounter]]. <</if>> <</if>> /*TODO: Make custom things at camp list for intro THIS IS BORKED*/

The wanderer [[clears up|start-mid-cleanup]] their campfire. <<run window.removeFromCamp("campfire")>>

The wanderer [[clears up|start-mid-cleanup]] their tent. <<run window.removeFromCamp("tent")>>

The wanderer [[clears up|start-mid-cleanup]] their pack. <<run window.removeFromCamp("pack")>>

The wanderer pats Neal. [["good boy."|start-mid-cleanup]] the wanderer says warmly. <<run window.removeFromCamp("neal")>>

The wanderer wakes in their tent exhausted. <<run newWeather()>> <<if $currentWeather === "rainy">>The sag in the roof of their tent and steady drip, drip, drip of water suggest that it had rained the night before. "Shit" they mutter as they get dressed, their clothes soaked from the water that had poured in the tent entrance. <<if $enduring is false>>They could almost smell some of [[Mac]]'s homemade stew. Almost. With a shaky sigh, they [[exit the tent|start-camp]]<<else>>. They shoulder the entrance flap aside and [[exit the tent|start-camp]] with a sigh<</if>>. <<elseif $currentWeather === "sunny">>The first rays of sun creep in through a crack in the entrance, casting the hazy shadow of a tree branch on the wall opposite.<<if $enduring is false>> The shadow reminds them of [[Fala]], standing just outside the tent as she used to. They get dressed with a sigh and [[make their way out of the tent|start-camp]]<<else>> "Nice day out" they muse as they get dressed then [[exit the tent|start-camp]] <</if>> <</if>>

<<set $tidbitCount += 1>> Mac. The man started each day with a smile and a cauldron of simmering soup for the camp. The wanderer had looked up to him. With a morose sigh and a small grumble from their stomach, they [[shoulder aside the tent's entrance flap|start-camp]] their mind on soup and camaraderie.

<<set $tidbitCount+= 1>> Fala. She was always the early riser. They could still hear the echoes of her shouting to wake up through the tent's entrance. The wanderer was never a morning person. With a morose sigh and a subsequent yawn, they [[shoulder aside the tent's entrance flap|start-camp]].

"No, Mac! Have you lost your damned mind?!" Fala paced around camp, her barely contained frustration apparent. "We're not letting some common street thief..." she sputtered. "'Ey I'll have you know the kid practically paid fer that sandwitch 'an then some! They're practically a wizard with a hammer..." "After a couple lessons" Mac whispered, turning to Them with a [[wink|fala-wink]].

The child giggled, recalling the numerous misses and fingers slammed along the way. All in all though, the child had truthfully saved Mac a significant amount of laborous work, and they could tell the man enjoyed his time much more throughout; He was a very natural teacher. Fala opened and closed her mouth making various noises in frustration. She had been travelling with Mac for long enough to genuinely care about him, and to her dismay she could see how much having the child around had [[improved his spirits|fala-spirits]].

"Fuuuuuuuck" she finally exhaled. She stomped up to Mac, his bearded face molded to his signature grin. "Listen here. If you really want to take this child away from their home and put them in harm's way, I guess I can't stop you, but we're doing this MY way, do you hear?" "Yes ma'am!" Mac shouted gleefully, throwing a playful salute. Fala exhaled forcefully, massaging her temples with her left hand. "And you." She turned to Them. "One wrong move and you're [[out of here|fala-outta-here]], you understand?"

The child nodded vigorously. "And you understand what you're getting into? Mac and I live off the land. The creature comforts of society can be completely forgotten. You will pull your weight, or we drop you at the next town." More nodding. "Very well. There is a stream a quarter mile due west. Take that bucket, and return with water for camp." "[[Yes ma'am|fala-yes-maam]]" They sqeaked.

As The child scurried away to grab the water, they heard one last exchange between the two. "Don't ever say I don't do anything for you." Fala. "Thank you. They just remind me so much of Adam." Mac. "I can tell." Fala. They looked back at the two before leaving the clearing: Mac had wrapped Fala in a big bear hug. He spotted Their glance and made a thumbs up followed by a shooing motion. And <<link "off they went" $returnAddress>><</link>>.

"Wrong." Fala snatched the bow from their hands. The child knew the drill; they dropped to the ground, <<linkappend "counting">> <<linkappend "out">> <<linkappend "each">> <<linkappend "push-up">> as it came, trying to minimize the grunts of effort as their weak arms began to [[reach their limit.|fala-done]]<</linkappend>><</linkappend>><</linkappend>><</linkappend>>

"Good. Now fetch your arrows." Fala sat back down onto her stump, picking up her whittling knife and wooden block. They pondered asking her what she was making as they walked towards the tree in which the majority of their arrows were buried. After a good amount of digging around in the backwood of the forest, they [[returned|fala-returned]] with most of the arrows intact.

"What are you making?" Fala kept her eyes on her project. "Bison. How many arrows did you [[recover|fala-recover]]?"

"Nine. One's broken." "Hm. We'll make another at camp tonight. Continue." They took aim once again and let loose. Miss. "Tension comes from the back, not the arms. [[Again|fala-again]]."

The two were mostly silent on their walk back to camp. Fala took the time to feed Havan some seeds, giving some to the child and letting them do so as well. "The bison are dying out." Fala broke the silence as Havan pecked the last couple seeds from the child's hand. "What?" "You asked what I was carving. I'm carving a bison." She sighed. "You're too young to remember, but when I was a child it was difficult to walk a few hundred paces without seeing a bison. And [[Now|fala-now-bison]].."

"Where did they go?" "Hunted. Their corpses left to rot. Killed for sport. Money. And worse, war." "War?" Fala exhaled, lamenting, with a hint of guilty envy, their naïveté. "Child, If you want land, and the people on that land need the bison to live, what do you do?" Silence broke once again for [[a moment|fala-moment]] as her words sank in.

"I want you to have this." Said Fala finally. She handed them the little wooden bison figurine, placing her hands on top and below theirs, clutching the two together. "Don't follow in your people's <<link "footsteps" $returnAddress>><</link>>, little one."

"They're here" Fala's quiet but urgent whisper pierced Their dreams like a skewer. In all the years they had travelled together, the child had only heard that tone of urgency a handful of times, and only in the most dire of circumstances. They quickly exited Their tent and began to gather Their things in the early morning's darkness, when they felt Fala grab their shoulders. "No time. [[We go now|fala-now]]". Their pack would have to suffice.

"How did they..." "I don't know. I just need you to get on Neal with Mac right now. And take Havan. I love you" Havan, Fala's raven fluttered onto their shoulder. The child opened their mouth, looking back to where Fala was, but the woman was nowhere to be seen. Mac was already sitting atop his horse, Neal, with his hand outstretched. They grabbed it and were hoisted up in front of him. "[[Going Somewhere|fala-somewhere]]?" A cocky voice called out through the night.

"Don't bother. We've got you surrounded." A man on horseback, holding a gun and a flickering lantern moved into the clearing. "Hector Axeford, Pinkerton Detective Agency. Y'all are under arrest for the murder of Buck Calhoun." "You two, Get off the horse and put your hands on your-- AAAAAAUGHHHHHHH" The man screamed as an arrow sprouted from his eye. Mac spurred on Neal, [[rocketing|fala-rocketing]] out of the clearing.

<<linkappend "Gunshots rang out">> <<linkappend "FALA! WE CAN'T LEAVE FALA!">> <<linkappend "SHE'LL HOLD EM OFF AND CATCH UP LATER">> <<linkappend "HALT! Shouted a pinkerton in front of them.">> <<linkappend "BANG! The man slumped off his horse, a hole in his forhead, as the two rode by">> <<linkappend "GOOD SHOOTING, KID">> <<linkappend "FUCK THAT, WE TURN AROUND NOW TO HELP FALA.">> <<linkappend "Mac grinned a skeletal smile. No can do, kid. We already decided you're the priority.">> <<linkappend "The child let out a long shriek of agony, ignoring the numerous bullets whizzing by.">> [[BANG|fala-bang]], they fired back. <</linkappend>> <</linkappend>> <</linkappend>> <</linkappend>> <</linkappend>><</linkappend>><</linkappend>><</linkappend>><</linkappend>>

The two of them kept riding as long as they could, long after they had lost their trail. "You're bleeding" Noted Mac, gesturing at the bullet hole in their left arm. "Didn't notice." They muttered. Mac pulled Neal to a stop, and tried to get off. Havan gave a caw of surprise as Mac's rear leg caught the saddle, sending the stout man tumbling [[to the ground|fala-ground]].

He was bleeding. A lot. "No, no no no nonono" The child lept off Neal, desperately wrapping wounds in whatever clothing was handy. "Hey, hey." Mac wheezed. "It's too late fer me, kiddo. You're all that mattered. To either of us. Keep going, will ya?" "Stop with that shit, you're making it, you're making it, you hear me?" Mac chuckled silently, that grin on his face to the last. "<<link "Eat a sandwich" "endscreen">><</link>> for me, will ya?"

"Oy, kid! That's my sandwich!" The child didn't stop to see who was yelling at them, instead taking off at maximum velocity down the nearby alleyway. One of the benefits of living in a town along the route to Oregon was that the many passerby had no knowledge of the alleyways, nor that their possessions should be kept within arm's reach. And the child was in no hurry to inform anyone. The construction worker, hammer still in hand, was keeping up concerningly well, considering his portly appearance. They turned to dip into a side alley, but instead felt an acute yank on their shirt. [[Shit|mac-shit]].

The child felt themselves get lifted off the ground, and get turned around, face to face with their would-be victim. They hadn't stolen from a black man before-- few made it this far north--, so they had no idea what to expect, especially having been caught this time around. Usually they'd just take a beating, get turned over to the sheriff just to escape later on, or both. What they hadn't expected was for the construction worker to catch them, glance at the teenaged kid that faced them, see their ragged clothes and half bite taken out of the sandwich, place them back down with a sigh and say: "Ah, [[fuck it|mac-fuck-it]]. Keep the sandwich, kid. Ya need it more than I do."

They froze, bewildered, as the man turned around and began walking back to the construction site. "You're not turning me in?" "Hah!" they turned back around. "I prob'ly like the law less than you do, kiddo." He paused for a second, thinking. "I'm Mac. What's your [[name|mac-name]]?"

The child could've given him the one they was currently using, or even any of the few that they had saved for later, but instead they found themselves saying "I don't have one." Their bottom lip began to tremble without permission. "Ey ey no need to cry, kiddo. Ya don't need a name. 'Ere, how 'bout I show ya how to use a hammer. Would that make ya [[feel better|mac-better]]?"

The child instantly perked up, quickly wiping away their tears. They nodded vigorously. "Well then." He said with a wink, handing them his hammer. "Hold this for me and <<link "keep up" $returnAddress>><</link>>."

"Happy birthday, lad!" Mac said, gesturing to the tavern. "You don't even know what my birthday is!" The child protested, a big smile on Their face. It had been many months since they had seen any semblance of society, and as much as They liked Mac and Fala, they had started to miss the [[hustle and bustle|mac-hustle]] of a town.

The inside was unreasonably warm, contrasting with the harsh cold of the northern winter wilderness. They closed their eyes and savored it for a moment. "Two drinks!" announced Mac as the two of them approached the bar. "One for me and one for the lass here." As the tavernkeeper went to fetch their drinks, Mac turned to them: "Ahh you're all grown up now, makin' yer old man cry." He wrapped them in one of his bear hugs. "You wouldn't believe how much I had to beg Fala to let this [[happen|mac-happen]]," he said with a chuckle.

They laughed. "Yeah! I was shocked when she didn't say anything!" Mac laughed along and placed a hand on their shoulder. "Happy birthday kiddo. I'm grateful ya decided to steal my sandwitch." "[[me too|mac-me-too]]"

"Truthfully," mac started as the drinks arrived, "I picked today for yer birthday because it was also..." he paused. "Adam's?" They offered. Mac nodded. "You've probably heard us talk about 'im. Adam was one of a kind. Witty bastard. Genuine too. Really quiet till ya got to know 'im He was our glue. Kept my wacky antics in check, and got Fala to enjoy herself more than once in a blue moon." "[[What happened?|mac-what-happened]]"

"Ford crossing. One moment in the water, the next whisked away." The man took a deep gulp of his drink. "Looked for 'is body; never found it." They had no words. "Boo fucking hoo" A man sitting next to Mac at the bar interrupted, woozily spinning a revolver around on his finger. "First you come in here like you own the place and now you're [[ruining the mood|mac-mood]]." The man drawled.

"Can we help you?" Asked Mac altogether too politely. They had learned years ago that Mac had two "modes." One was regular old Mac. And the other was society's Mac. Society's Mac made them a little sick. "Yeah, actually. I was wondering if you and your little freak of nature here could [[get the fuck out|mac-gtfo]] of my tavern."

"Sure," replied Mac. "We were planning on leaving the moment we finished up our drinks." Mac raised his with a fake smile. "Were you now? I guess that gives me a little time to interrogate this little circus act here." The man stood up from his stool and made a couple zig-zagged steps over to the child, looking them up and down. "See, I know I don't like *him*, but you, you're annoying... You know you'd make a beautiful dame if you just stopped looking so much like a man." They stood rooted in place, sick to their stomach, eyes firmly locked with Mac's, whose left fist had begun almost [[imperceptibly shaking|mac-shaking]]. They had never seen him so close to losing it before.

A few long moments passed. They could smell the alcohol on the man's breath, and his revolver scared the living shit out of them. "See, I still can't tell what you are. And I don't like that." His mouth morphed into the most disgusting grin they had ever seen. "So here's what's going to happen. You're going to come out back with me and I'm going to find out." "[[Like fuck you are|mac-like-fuck]]" said Mac.

"Ooh looks like the ring leader's got something to say!" The man said in a singsong voice. The click of a revolver being primed silenced the general hubbub of the tavern. "Unfortunately I wasn't asking." A second stretched to infinity, before [[snapping back into place|mac-slideshow]].

<<linkappend "Mac threw a punch">> <<linkappend "He shouted to run">> <<linkappend "The child froze">> <<linkappend "The revolver flew through the air">> <<linkappend "They had to Move!!! Please!!!">> <<linkappend "Mac was tackled to the ground">> <<linkappend "DO SOMETHING, ANYTHING">> <<linkappend "Mac was punched. He cried out in pain">> <<linkappend "The child snatched the gun">> <<linkappend "Mac was punched again. He was bleeding.">> <<link "BANG!" $returnAddress>><</link>> <</linkappend>> <</linkappend>> <</linkappend>> <</linkappend>> <</linkappend>> <</linkappend>><</linkappend>><</linkappend>><</linkappend>><</linkappend>>

<<set $tidbitCount -= $tidbitCap>><<set $current to $backstories.pop()>> <<if $current is "mac-1">> They didn't <<link "deserve" $current>><</link>> to meet a guy like Mac. <<elseif $current is "fala-1">> Fala should've <<link "left them" $current>><</link>> behind. <<elseif $current is "fala-2">> Fala was the only reason they were <<link "still alive" $current>><</link>> out in the wilds. <<elseif $current is "mac-finale">> Why did Mac <<link "care more" $current>><</link>> about them than he did himself? <<elseif $current is "fala-finale">> Fuck fuck fuck fuck <<linkappend "fuck">><<link "FUCK" $current>><</link>><</linkappend>> <<else>> Something has gone very wrong. (this is a bug, report it here: https://github.com/Fireye04/307-Final/issues) <</if>>

<<run window.newWeather()>> The wanderer wakes up calmly and exits their tent. <<if $weather is "sunny">> The moon tells them it is close to 2 in the morning. The clearing is fully lit by its light. Almost full. <<else>> The light drizzle and partly clouded sky obscure the moon, casting ghostly shadows on the ground. <</if>> Mac and Fala aren't here. [[They're alone|end-bad-alone]].

They drop a small pile of seeds in front of Havan who begins to naively enjoy them, and delivers the rest of their hay to Neal, who begins munching on it gratefully. The wanderer unholsters Neal, who gladly shakes his mane. <<if $backstories.length is 5>> The wanderer turns away before they started crying or have any second thoughts. They had [[made up their mind|endscreen]]. <<else>> The wanderer glances at their revolver wearily.<<if $backstories.length is 1>> They chuckle to themselves remembering the day they had got it. The day at the bar [[with mac|end-bad-mac]].<<else>> They feel to their knees, paralyzed by indecision. They couldn't block it out but they couldn't do anything about it either. And so they remained paralyzed till the early hours of morning, where they picked their gun back up, emotionless, put it back in its holster, and began the day anew. [[As if nothing had happened|endscreen]] <</if>> <</if>>

They had killed its previous owner, how ironic that it would then kill them? Their chuckle gets louder and louder, never reaching their eyes, which, unblinking, were fixed on a point not in space, but time. And reaching the laugh's climax something in them snaps, and imperceptibly the laughs shift to sobs, and they fall to their knees, then their side. Havan flies over, seeds abandoned and curls up beside them, closely followed by neal. They sob and sob and sob. For the memories. The good times. The bad times. And everything in between. Hours later when they had exhausted all the water their body was willing to spare, they stared straight up and they felt better than they [[ever had before|endscreen]].

Hiya! Thanks for playing. As you can probably tell, I had bigger plans for this, but the deadline came too soon and i was forced to sacrifice quite a bit in pretty much every area, including real life ones. The crunch is real (I'm finishing this on my birthday haha). Regardless, I hope you enjoyed what you did play, and I hope you can understand if you ran into any bugs, editorial mistakes, or half-baked ideas. I promise I had a vision for this thing, but I just didn't have time to execute the full thing in a state I'm happy with, which is a damn shame. I hope to tie up the many narrative loose ends I left dangling over winter break and hopefully release a non-jam (so to speak) version of this thing then. Until I do, pretend the real story is the backstories! I was actually able to cook on those, and they're really the only thing that I'd say is in a presentable state at the moment. (and if you didn't get any backstories, perhaps let some voices in ehehe)

<<set $returnAddress to "end-mid-setup">> <<if $enduring is false>><<set $campMutators to $tidbits.randomMany(2)>> <<else>> <<set $campMutators to []>> <</if>> <<run window.setTAC("evening")>> Time to set up camp. <<for _i to 0; _i lt $thingsAtCamp.length; _i++>> <<= $thingsAtCamp[_i].getDescription()>> <</for>>

<<set $target to $campMutators.deleteWith(function (val){ return val.object === "campfire" })>><<for _i, _item range $target>> <<= _item.getDescription()>> <</for>> The wanderer [[sets up|end-mid-setup]] their campfire. <<run window.removeFromCamp("campfire")>>

<<set $target to $campMutators.deleteWith(function (val){ return val.object === "tent"; })>><<for _i, _item range $target>> <<= _item.getDescription()>> <</for>> The wanderer [[sets up|end-mid-setup]] their tent. <<run window.removeFromCamp("tent")>>

<<set $target to $campMutators.deleteWith(function (val){ return val.object === "pack"; })>><<for _i, _item range $target>> <<= _item.getDescription()>> <</for>> The wanderer [[sets up|end-mid-setup]] their pack. <<run window.removeFromCamp("pack")>>

<<set $target to $campMutators.deleteWith(function (val){ return val.object === "neal"; })>><<for _i, _item range $target>> <<= _item.getDescription()>> <</for>> The wanderer pats Neal, Setting the horse some hay. [["good boy."|end-mid-setup]] the wanderer says warmly. <<run window.removeFromCamp("neal")>>

<<if $enduring is false>><<set $campMutators to $tidbits.randomMany(2)>> <<else>> <<set $campMutators to []>> <</if>> <<set $returnAddress to "morning-mid-setup">> <<run newWeather()>> <<run window.setTAC("morning")>> The wanderer wakes in their tent once again. <<if $currentWeather === "rainy">>The pitter patter of rain on the roof is calming. They shoulder the entrance flap aside and [[exit the tent|start-camp]]. <<elseif $currentWeather === "sunny">>The first rays of sun creep in through a crack in the entrance. Havan pecks them awake. "G'mornin, little guy" they yawn as they get dressed, then [[exit the tent|start-camp]] <</if>>

They survey their camp. Time to pack up. <<for _i to 0; _i lt $thingsAtCamp.length; _i++>> <<= $thingsAtCamp[_i].getDescription()>> <</for>>

<<set $target to $campMutators.deleteWith(function (val){ return val.object === "campfire"; })>><<for _i, _item range $target>> <<= _item.getDescription()>> <</for>> The wanderer [[clears up|morning-mid-cleanup]] their campfire. <<run window.removeFromCamp("campfire")>>

<<set $target to $campMutators.deleteWith(function (val){ return val.object === "tent"; })>><<for _i, _item range $target>> <<= _item.getDescription()>> <</for>> The wanderer [[clears up|morning-mid-cleanup]] their tent. <<run window.removeFromCamp("tent")>>

<<set $target to $campMutators.deleteWith(function (val){ return val.object === "pack"; })>><<for _i, _item range $target>> <<= _item.getDescription()>> <</for>> The wanderer [[clears up|morning-mid-cleanup]] their pack. <<run window.removeFromCamp("pack")>>

<<set $target to $campMutators.deleteWith(function (val){ return val.object === "neal"; })>><<for _i, _item range $target>> <<= _item.getDescription()>> <</for>> The wanderer pats Neal. [["good boy."|morning-mid-cleanup]] the wanderer says warmly. <<run window.removeFromCamp("neal")>>

Lightning crackles across the sky. The nightly screams assault the wanderer's mental fortress once again. [[They Endure|endure]] [[They Relent|relent]]

<<run setIsEnduring(true)>> Their focus redoubles as the walls are pommeled again and again, grimacing with each subsequent impact. <<if $endureCount lt 1>> And moment by moment the wanderer endures, slowly but surely making it [[through the night|camp-morning]]. <<elseif $endurecount is 1>> A loud Crack resounds through the wanderer's bastion. They set themselves upon repairing the damaged walls, but they can feel the voices [[winning|camp-morning]]. <<else>> And with a loud crash, it all comes [[tumbling down|end-bad]]. <</if>>

<<run window.selectEncounter()>> <<run $encounters.deleteWith(function (val){return val.name === $currentEncounter.name;})>> <<set $returnAddress to "end-encounter">> The wanderer <<link "sets off" $currentEncounter.name>><</link>><<if $currentWeather === "rainy">> into the clouded morning.<<else>> into the sunny morning.<</if>>

/*TODO: run onCompleted()*/ <<run $currentEncounter.onCompleted()>> The sun sets as the wanderer settles on a [[suitable location|camp-evening]] to set up camp.

/*TODO: weather states*/ The wanderer spots a vulture. "Vultures are nature's guides" the wanderer muses to Themselves. The wanderer gestures Neal forward, following the vulture in their [[solitary silence|bison-continue]].

The vulture settles down on a rotting bison carcass. The wanderer reaches into their saddle bag taking out a small, carved wooden bison, feeling the grooves in its side in an attempt to calm themselves down.<<if $enduring is false>> "You're no better than them" Fala whispers. The wanderer grits their teeth. "You disrespect her memory," They respond.<</if>> They dismount to [[study the thing|bison-study]], scattering the vultures

Several bullet holes <<linkappend "pepper its side.">> Careless, imprecise shots. The animal died in great pain. <</linkappend>> The pelt remained on the beast, its state far too degraded to be of any use or value. A large gaping hole yawns from the beast's <<linkappend "skull">> Shotgun. Point blank or very close range. Likely how the pained creature was put out of its misery. <<linkappend "The horns are missing">> Taken as prizes, no doubt. <</linkappend>><</linkappend>> Liquid blood still pooled <<linkappend "around the beast.">> A day old, maybe less. Their grip on the carving tightens.<<if $enduring is false>> "Pretender. Unworthy abandoner." Fala jeers at them. The wanderer takes a deep breath and concentrates trying to cast her voice out of their brain. It is not effective.<</if>> They look around. A plume of smoke [[rises|bison-rise]], about an hour's ride due northwest. <</linkappend>>

Neal makes short work of the journey. They could've tracked the bastards just fine without the smoke, due to the littered trail of bison they saw along the way. They could feel their blood pressure rise with each additional corpse. The off-key drunken voices singing get louder [[as they approach|bison-approach]].

The camp is haphazard. A bonfire far larger than necessary, a half-set up tent, and bottles of liquor littered everywhere. They dismount Neal, and approach the singers. They count four. "Excuse me." The wanderer interrupts. No response; the singing continues. They sigh, drawing their revolver and [[firing once|bison-fire]] in the air.

The group shuts up fast. "Where the fuck did you come from?" One shouts. "Pardon the interruption, did you happen to kill those bison?" "Yeah! They're offering two bucks a horn if you want in." boasts one, before getting ruthlessly elbowed by his friend. "Remus! Shut the fuck up!" The other looks up at the wanderer, a phony smile on his lips. "Sorry, what's it to you?" <<if $enduring is false>> [[Shoot them|bison-shoot]] [[Spare them|bison-fala-spare]] <<else>> [[Shoot them|bison-shoot]] [[Spare them|bison-spare]] <</if>>

<<set $bisonShot to true>> Four shots echo over the plains.<<if $enduring is false>> The wanderer feels a hand on their shoulder. Fala. "Well done." She says simply. A tear rolls down their cheek. "I miss you." "[[I know|bison-cleanup]]." She responds.<<else>> The wanderer studies the scene. Havan had flown to the open can of beans one had been eating, and had begun to pick at it. They sighed. [[Time to clean up|bison-cleanup]].<</if>>

They took awhile to loot and gather the various items into a sufficiently burnable pile. But finally, it was done. They set it off, and spurred Neal off to wander once again, looking for a good place to set up camp. The day's exhaustion had <<link "caught up" $returnAddress>><</link>> with them.

<<set $bisonShot to false>> "I'm going to say this once. I have five shots left in this gun. That's one for each of you, and I even get a spare in case I miss." They pause. "I don't miss." They click the hammer into position. "Here's what I need from you, to maybe prevent anything unfortunate from happening." They gesture at the closest one. "You, bring me the horns you've gathered up to this point. And everyone else, get a nice blunt object." They flashed a skeletal smile "[[We're going hammering|bison-hammering]]"

The sobs of lost capital and clacking of rocks on bone went on for a while. And finally, when no horns remained intact, the wanderer mounted Neal and took their leave to find a good spot to set up camp. The day's exhaustion had <<link "caught up" $returnAddress>><</link>>. with them.

<<set $bisonShot to true>> The wanderer takes a deep breath and lowers their weapon. They feel a hand grip theirs. They turn. Fala. "Traitor." She says, wrenching the gun from their hands, placing a shot squarely in each of the men's foreheads. She hands back the gun, her anger apparent. They take it, jaw clenched. "They didn't deserve to die" "Oh? Were any of their lives any more valuable than those of the bison they killed? Or were to kill?" The wanderer [[remains silent|bison-cleanup]].

The day passes, Neal trods on, and Havan collects seeds from the various plants that scatter the wilderness. The wanderer pauses Neal for a moment and takes a deep breath.<<if $currentWeather === "rainy">> The gentle pitter-patter of rain never fails to calm them down. <<else>> The cloudless sky shines a beautiful blue amidst the trees.<</if>> The day passes uneventfully and as the sun sets, the wanderer finds themselves once again searching for a place to <<link "set up camp" $returnAddress>><</link>>.

/*TODO: different notice if rainy*/ The wanderer sights a plume of smoke rising over the plains. No known settlements are nearby as far as they're aware. They shrug to themselves and [[turn Neal|couple-turn]] in its direction

As they approach, they note a half-built wooden cabin in a small clearing, and a couple voices bickering back and forth. "Another miss? That's it, my turn" "Aw honey, you think Ms. 'can't hit a deer ten paces in front of her' is gonna do any better?" "THAT WAS ONE TIME!" Intrigued, the wanderer dismounts neal and [[circles the cabin|couple-circles]].

They find themselves looking at a couple of women fighting over a bow, a small fire behind them. The two haven't noticed them yet. They chuckle as one holds the bow over her head and the other, a good foot shorter struggles to reach it. <<if $enduring is false>>They feel Mac's hand on their shoulder. "You'll never have that, kid." His look is sympathetic, but his words, said so matter-of-factly draw tears to the wanderer's eyes. "No, you'd just fuck it up. Like ya did with me and Fala. Better to keep moving" "[[yeah|couple-yeah]], you're right"<<else>>"[[Need some help?|couple-help]]" They ask.<</if>>

"Who're you?" The taller one with the bow notches and draws an arrow pointing it at the wanderer. They chuckle. Judging from the earlier conversation she would almost certainly miss if she tried to shoot. "Just a wanderer." They unbuckle their holster, letting the six shooter fall to the ground with a dull *clank* "Mean you no harm. Figured I'd offer what little assistance I could to a couple of fellow naturefolk." The woman considers their words and finally drops the bow. "In exchange for what exactly?" "Companionship mostly. The hills may be beautiful but they get a bit lonely after a few weeks. Wouldn't feel right to ask anything else of you, especially due to you not knowing how to hunt. Basically a [[death wish|couple-deathwish]] out here."

And that's when she knew they were right. The exhaustion in her eyes that she was hiding up to that point became all to apparent the moment they mentioned hunting. "Alright. I'll take you at your word. But leave your gun there, hear me?" "[[As you wish|couple-as-you-wish]]"

<<set $tidbitCount += 1>> The wanderer found their afternoon taken by the odd act of teaching. They felt an odd affinity for the their past in doing so. They showed the two how to make traps, stalk prey, and shoot a bow. They hoped it would be enough to keep the two alive; It was a miracle they had survived up to that point. /*TODO: Expand in-scene here*/ And finally, as the sun set, they said their goodbyes and <<link "set off" $returnAddress>><</link>> to make camp.

With a sigh, the wanderer turns around, remounts Neal, and leaves. Morosely, they <<link "search" $returnAddress>><</link>> for a good place to set up camp.

The day carries on, Neal trods on, and Havan collects seeds from the various plants that scatter the wilderness. /*TODO: like all of this one*/ <<if $enduring is false>><<else>><</if>> the wanderer finds themselves once again searching for a place to <<link "set up camp" $returnAddress>><</link>>.

The wanderer studies the corpse that they've found. Its back is up against a tree; the previous owner seems to have died of exhaustion. And not too long ago by the looks of it. Havan pecks at its [[bag|dg-bag]].

The wanderer does an inventory: Some hard tack. A slightly-shriveled apple. .36 caliber revolver ammo? Score! Razor. Small bag containing a small amount of white powder. At least a hundred dollars? The wanderer glances around. Nobody. The corpse won't be using it, best not let it go to waste. They take it and sling it over Neal's back. <<if $enduring is false>><<set $tookHat to true>> <<set $buriedCorpse to false>> "Hold up a second, kiddo." Mac grabs the corpse's hat and plops it on the wanderer's head. "There ya go. 'bout time to find camp, let's head out." The wanderer takes it off to look at it. It's very well-made. They mentally shrug and [[plop|dg-end]] it back on.<<else>> They look back at the corpse. Its hat looks very well made. They [[take it|dg-take]] They [[leave it|dg-leave]]<</if>>

They walk over and yoink the hat. [[Nice|dg-bury]].

They [[sigh|dg-bury]], not wanting to disturb the corpse.

<<set $buriedCorpse to true>> They pause as they ride away. Should they body the thing? It was, of course, human at some point. Like them. Perhaps it too deserved some respect. They turn around and with a sigh [[begin digging|dg-end]]

With the corpse finally behind them, they search <<link "for a campsite" $returnAddress>><</link>> once again.

The wanderer crests a hill, noticing a small party of travellers moving their way. /*lost guy is a chemist who is pen pals with a german chemist named Friedrich Gaedcke in other news he got a small box delivered to him and went crazy (cocaine)*/

search party 2

<<set $tidbitCap to 2>> <<set $tidbitsPerCamp to 2>> <<set $endureCount to 0>> <<set $enduring to false>> <<set $currentWeather to "sunny">> <<set $thingsAtCamp to []>> <<set $encounters to []>> <<set $currentEncounter to "none">> <<run window.setEncounters()>> <<set $returnAddress to "none">> <<set $tidbits to []>> <<run window.setTidbits()>> <<set $tidbitCount = 0>> <<set $campMutators = []>> <<set $bisonShot to false>> <<set $backstories to ["fala-finale", "mac-finale", "fala-2", "fala-1", "mac-1"]>>

Something went horribly wrong, I'm so sorry (this is a bug, report it here: https://github.com/Fireye04/307-Final/issues)