kirabug's idea files

Day 813:

I’m back around at the southern end of the mountains, where it’s high and cold and snowing like a blizzard. Probably because it is a blizzard.

No sign of the rude horse today, but definite signs that I need to make taller boots if I’m going to keep coming up here because my feet are soaked despite the relatively well-water-proofed boots I already have. The snow was just piling in from the top with every step. I’m probably lucky I came home with both boots.

I spent a lot of time when I returned slowly warming up my toes and ensuring that I wouldn’t lose any of them. They’re all quite red and painful, but the fact that they’re painful is probably good because it means the nerves are still working.

Snow mining isn’t exactly in my skill set and I’m going to try to avoid doing it in the future.

Day 812:

I was working on smoothing out the western side of the mountains when another gang of murderers came out of the trees below me. They were a good distance away and I don’t think they saw me, but I’m pretty sure they spotted my easternmost outpost’s walls, since I didn’t do anything to disguise them.

I don’t know what those murderers want, other than to kill me.  They always approach with crossbows drawn and they start shooting before I can even try to have a vocal conversation.

This band left  and didn’t come back today, but I’m sure they will at some point.

Day 811:

Back to the cliffs to the north where I keep finding ponds that flood down to the river. I’ve built enough up around the topmost (I hope) one that it’s no longer flooding.

I wonder what “professional flood re-landscapers” are actually called.

I’m sure from space this obvious reshaping of the land is, well, obvious, but at this point I’m less worried about anyone finding out I’m here and more worried about what happens if they don’t. I don’t want to die here alone.

Day 810:

If I was smart I’d have spent the day today at home recovering from being pushed off a cliff by a horse.

Instead I went right back out there and worked on removing the cliff so it wasn’t a danger.

Got right back on the horse, one might say, except then I’d have to kick one off a cliff for such a bad joke.

Weather’s nice, the horse wasn’t anywhere around, and from up on the cliff I got a good view of the ground to the east of the mountains. I’m up so high that almost everything is perpetually covered in snow, though on the edges of the picture are a few places where the elevation’s dropped enough that the snow isn’t snow anymore.

Day 809:

Remember the other day when I saw the beautiful (live) horse at the top of the cliff outlined by the moonlight?

Jerk pushed me off a cliff today.

I had no idea horses were territorial.

Now I’m determined to catch him and move him somewhere that isn’t related to push me off cliffs. Braiding has jumped in priority.