I decided to take another look at my status window as I walked. Some part of my brain still believed there was no such thing, but when I said "Status" out loud, there it was.

Name: Trevor Bluem

Job: None

HP: 20/20

MP: 5/5

Skills:

* Swordsmanship - Level 1 - Exp 1/100

* Digging - Level 3 - Exp 225/300

I barked out a laugh after seeing the “Digging” skill. I guess that would have leveled up somewhat after digging a damned grave. Which is still open. But we’ll deal with that later. So no “Intelligence” or “Fortitude” eh? And it looks like skills are picked up and leveled by actually doing them. I wonder what this “Job: None” mea–

"Ah!" I let out a short shout in shock as the ground rapidly rose to meet my body. I found myself with stinging palms and bruised knees, and most of my belongings having been dropped or flung after tripping on something in the dark.

"Ohhhh geez that hurts. Fuck!" I let loose an expletive to attempt to manage the pain in my patellae. Rolling onto my behind and clutching my knees, I continued to rant in my head.

Dammit that hurts ! gonna be bruised on top of stiff and sore tomorrow. Lovely first day we're having, here. I guess that's what I get for staring at a screen instead of paying attention to walking. Shit. Alright, let's grab a drink and--dammit, where is the water jug? And half of my tools are gone too. Am I ever gonna be able to find them in the grass in the dark? I do have the flashlight on my phone, but some of this stuff is really small and the grass is really packed. I guess the only thing to do is try.

Gingerly standing up, I dismissed the status window and reached into my pocket to pull out my phone. Once the flashlight was on, I pretty immediately found larger things like the hammer, folding hex wrench set, wire cutters, and measuring tape. It took some crouching and scanning to find the small pair of needle nose pliers, and I never did locate the quick connect drill bit holder.

Well, I'm not likely to be able to use an electric drill here anyway. There's the water jug, and thankfully it hasn't popped open. Ah, can't forget about the sleeping bag!

After taking a swig, I looked back to the South and could barely see the outline of the shed against the starry sky. I had come about half a mile, not far at all, and it was already that hard to see? Maybe it wasn't as much of a beacon as I had originally feared.

Turning Northward, I could still see the glow of the fire on the horizon. A half mile apparently hadn't made much difference.

Alright, let's keep moving. NOT staring at the status window, this time.

I hitched up my tool belt, then resumed the march.

Even without the distraction of the status window, navigating overland in the dark is difficult. I could have turned on my phone flashlight, but I didn't want to make myself a target--human eyes can detect a single photon, after all--at the same time as ruining my night vision and killing the battery. So I mostly kept my head down, watching my feet, only occasionally looking toward the faint orange glow on the horizon.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

-

About an hour later, I was thankful for the exertion of trudging across the grasslands, since the early Spring night had turned chilly.

Well, assuming it's actually Spring, here. It could be mid- to late fall, for all I know. I'm really hoping it's not going to get any colder before I can reinforce and insulate my shelter. I'll be dead before the new year if I can't stockpile food, too.

At the thought of food, my attention was drawn again to my cramping stomach. I looked to the North, and at first couldn't find the campfire's glow. After a frantic moment of searching, I was able to detect the lighter patch against the stars, but it was definitely growing more faint, not brighter.

Crap, they're probably asleep and the fire is going out! If I can't reach them before the light is completely gone, what do I do? I guess I'd have to zip myself into the sleeping bag in the open. Yeesh, not a comforting thought. I'll have to pick up the pace to have any hope of reaching them tonight. What time is it anyway? Phone says it's only 9 PM, they must be early risers. Though I guess most people would be if they lived by the sun. Gah, and the battery is at 40 percent too. It was never going to last forever, but I don't have to be happy about it.

Making such a migration with several pounds of water dangling from one hand, and the drawstring of a couple of pounds of cloth cutting off circulation in the other, was definitely less than a fun experience. But there was nothing else I could do, so I kept putting one achy foot in front of the other.

-

When I finally detected the smell of smoke, I checked my phone to see that it was now 10:28 PM. To the North, the glow of the fire hadn't seemed to have changed much, so at least I could still use it for navigation.

Maybe they had woken up to add fuel to the fire? I'm guessing that's why the glow hasn't completely disappeared. It's definitely late enough that I should be sleeping as well. But I'm so close! At least, I think I am. But dang, two and a half hours? Assuming I was walking at about two miles per hour, and adding in the distance before I tripped, that would be three-ish miles. Assuming I have another mile to go, I can't get there before eleven. But I ought to be able to actually see the camp soon, right?

As luck would have it, my timing was pretty accurate in this case. Less than five minutes later, I noticed a sharp, angled shadow against the soft orange light at the horizon.

It's too far to tell for sure, but that could easily be the edge of a tent! Almost there! Come on Trevor, you've got this. But I definitely don't want to seem like I'm trying to sneak up on them--as if I could, out here. I should try making some noise as I approach. What would work for that? Uh, I have wire cutters, measuring tape, hex keys, screwdrivers, a hammer...actually, now that I think about it, I'm making some amount of racket as I walk anyway with all of this clinking in these pockets. But I'd rather be safe than sorry. So....maybe if I extend the measuring tape a foot or two, lock in place, then hang it, it'll occasionally rattle? Oh! It would probably also be a good idea to approach with my hands up. Universal sign for "I'm not a threat" and all.

I tried out that plan, taking a few steps. It didn't quite bend and snap the way I wanted, but I had hung it near the hammer loop, so it was banging into the wooden handle with about every other step.

That will work! Alright, warm fire and hopefully something to eat, here I come!

I started moving again, taking large, heavy steps so I would clank and jingle as much as possible. I had to hold back a chuckle at the mental image of me stomping around like a robot from a bad '60s sci-fi movie.

Only ten minutes later, I had my eyes trained directly on the fire, which I could partially see around the edge of what I had correctly assumed was a low, single-person A-frame tent. So I was only mildly surprised when the flap of said tent was thrown open, and a figure half-stumbled out, brandishing a blade in my direction.

I stopped where I was, and raised my hands even higher before speaking.

"Hel--uh, hello there!" I hadn't spoken except to myself all day, so I had to clear my throat to get the volume needed to carry across forty feet or so.

"My name is Trevor Bluem," I continued. "I'm a little lost, and I smelled your cooking from a couple of miles South. Do you think you could help me out? Maybe share a little food and let me sleep by the fire? I can do some work to repay you, if you want--I don't have any money on me right now."

The figure, silhouetted by the fire, stood a little straighter, but did not lower the blade. Their empty hand came up to near their face, and then they spoke.