Day 2

Nightmares haunted my sleep all through the night. I woke up screaming with my hand on my pickaxe, ready to slaughter whatever monsters awaited. There were none, only the first signs of a blizzard blowing in from the sky. I'm cold. My arm still hurts where I was bitten.

I huddle round the kiln for warmth. The body is still smouldering within, bringing with it the tantalising smell of cooked flesh. I think I would have died in the night had it gone out: the cold would have taken me and I wouldn't ever have woken up. A part of me wishes I hadn't woken. A part of me wishes I had died in my sleep.

I spend some time digging pits at the entrance to the cave. Whatever comes will have to navigate them to reach me. Hopefully the snow makes them harder to see.

I stop for a break once I have finished. As I eat the leftover meat from the day before I see that my pits have formed a face in the stone. It looks like it's screaming.

I fortify my entrance, spending the last of the afternoon building crenellations and platforms so I can stop them from getting in. As the day passes I hear them outside. Watching. Waiting for nightfall. They won't get me.

I've finished the fortifications. Night is falling. I hope that I have deterred whatever beasts might want me dead, but I can't know. All I know is that I will be sleeping with my hand on my blade, the kiln at my back, and a resolve to fight or die fighting.