kirabug's idea files

Day 814:

All my toes seem to be fine and I’ve doubled up on my socks today.

I’m also down a bit from the highest points, in a valley on the side of a cliff. (A mesa sort of? It’s just a flat bit cut into the mountain, with some trees, and then the mountain starts climbing again.

There are more sheep in this area and they don’t seem to be afraid of humans at all. Sometimes they come up and gently butt past me to climb the cliffs. Sometimes they’re not as gentle. In general they seem kind and friendly.

There are more trees here than I expected.

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.