Fear from last night had struck me so fiercely that I hadn't even slept a wink. Even if I was tired, I didn't have the tools necessary to make myself a bed. According to the instruction manual that came with my crafting table, I need wool. My guess is that there are some herds of sheep grazing around in the mountains. But, the search for wool will have to wait for some other day. Wool isn't exactly my top priority at the moment.
First and foremost, I must go out on a search for food. I know that I live close to the ocean, so there is plenty of fresh saltwater (I know I shouldn't drink it, but at least it's there) and fish. Cautiously, I make my way steadily into the trees, in the general direction of the mountains. Suddenly, my ears catch the sound of faint oinking.
I lift my gaze upward and find out that the noise is coming from a pig. But, to my surprise, the pig is casually strolling along the treetops. Determined, I build a makeshift set of stairs with a few dirt blocks that I'd pocketed yesterday. As I make my way up into the trees, the pig stares directly into my face, undaunted. It doesn't take long for me to kill the pig, leaving behind a warm chunk of pork on the ground.
Even with my lack of survivalist skills, I know that I shouldn't eat all of it right away. I shove it in my backpack, hoping that it will stay fresh enough to eat for dinner tonight. Shoving food into a pack without proper containers can easily result in spoiled food and a rotten-smelling backpack. I pray to myself that it will be good enough and decide to move along.
Craving adventure, I continue to walk around and explore the surroundings of my house. As much as it pains me to hold myself back, I tell myself not to stroll too far, as I could easily become lost. I have no compass; no measly map, either. Losing my way is easy, and expected. I must keep myself as close to my house as possible until I get a proper lay of the land.
I learn that there is a small jungle-like area just east of my house's front door. There's a small freshwater river (Thank goodness for freshwater!) and gargantuan jungle trees. I decide that the best thing to do is to investigate the wood of these trees and collect some for myself.
I spot a small flock of chickens nesting near the base of the trees. My head, along with my hollow stomach, tell me that I should hunt these birds and save the meat for later as well. I learn very quickly that hunting chickens, while easy, is a painstaking task. These creatures are fast runners and can fly very quickly when they are distressed.
I place the meat in my pack. Just to be sure, I look over my supplies:
3 pieces of chicken meat, 1 porkchop, about 10 dirt blocks, and 25 or so blocks of jungle wood.
As the sun starts to hide behind the mountains, I hurriedly scramble back to my wooden shack. I trip up in the darkness, having trouble finding my way through the thick trees. Just as I was about the open my front door, an arrow flashes past my face. Startled, I turn and find out that the arrow was drawn by a giant skeleton warrior. Frozen in fear, the warrior pulls out another arrow, but this time, it strikes me in the arm.
Even though I'm in extreme pain, I manage to safely make it inside. I collapse onto the hard wooden floor, wincing in agony and pain. I can also feel my stomach growling and I search for a piece of meat through the darkness of my house. I notice that after taking a few bites, I start to feel slightly closer to my normal self. The pain starts to go away and I almost feel close to normal-almost.