This morning, we all sat around the fire. Yuri ruled it too cold to move today, surprisingly. If Yuri is cold, we are all surely dead. I know that it is only going to get colder, so I am quite concerned to say the least. Around noon, we heard a creek that progressively got louder. All of us looked around the entirety of the camp, not finding anything. Then, a tent fell down. The poles snapped and the threading on part of it came completely undone. It was the hunter's tent. They retrieved their items and had to move. None of us seem to know how to sow, so we wrapped it up. Fabric is not completely useless. Albert is now staying with us. I do not mind; the tent isn't too crowded.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

