Hello again! Feeling much better today, thanks for asking.
It's always surprising how a good nights sleep can make all your biggest fears seem so very small.
As I once again woke up in the cold, dark, and very smelly crack of my hidey-hole, call of nature and all that, I immediately examined my wound. Surprisingly it was much better than expected!
When I finally managed to pull the sticky and blood caked strap of my satchel off of it it had already closed. Which seems unusual. But what do I know?
I worked my ankle and foot gingerly. Stiff and painful, but not debilitating. So I made my way outside and made some breakfast. By which I mean I snuck up on a rock and set both my hands on fire before grabbing it. I got a not-not on my third try.
Pro tip: if you roast a not-not hot enough the shell cracks itself, saving you much time and labor. Worth it even if the succulent meat inside gets a little crispy.
It would appear that Tingles are good both for roasting your enemies and healing your injuries. How very convenient.
After some plotting and scheming I managed to come up with a plan of sorts. I caught another not not, and very carefully burned it out of its shell. Then I filled the newly hollowed out shell with glow-goo. Making it into a lantern of sorts.
Fed and armed with light and a burgeoning spirit of adventure I set off.
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Following my own footprints through the caves and tunnels I find myself quite lost within. Numerous tunnels and caves split from my path and I nearly wander off into a few of the more interesting ones. But I stick to the plan for now. I'll have to come back later for those.
More trails of what I now recognize as not-not tracks doodle through the sand. There are other tracks as well, but I have no idea what made them. Whatever it was, it's much bigger than a not-not. These mystery tracks lead off into the side tunnels. I might give those particular tunnels a pass on exploring.
After a while my old footprints lead me to an vast underwater river. Far too wide to see the other shore with my dim light. The dark water burbles merrily as it washes onto the sandy beach I apparently washed up on before losing my memory.
Excited by the opportunity to finally get somewhat clean. I lay my satchel and lantern down on the bank and leapt into the water. Then promptly leapt back out shrieking my head off. The water was very cold.
I gingerly work my way slowly into the water. Inch by inch, with a healthy pause before dunking myself under when it reaches my hips. I then use handfuls of riversand to scrub the worst of the gunk off with its grit. I works out alright.
Now that I am cleaner I can see I have pale skin and lots of interesting little scars on my hands, arms, feet, and legs. Including my newest trophy from the dreaded not-not. Other than that all I can make out on the waters moving surface with my shoddy lamp is that I do in fact have a head.
My footprints lead directly into the water. Making following them further an impossibilty, and so I have become even more lost than before. No longer even having a possible path to answers. Oh well not much I can really do to change that.
Things are looking up in my opinion. My complete loss of any sort of direction nonwithstanding, I am fed, clean, and can make a fire with my hands to keep me warm. Not too bad for my third day of life!
As I lie on the bank of the Underriver, as I have decided to call it, listening to the echoing babble and rush of water I can feel myself drifting off. I'll let the rivers song carry me to sleep tonight.
Good night