Starving Together (A "Don't Starve" Story)

2: Someone Like Me

Twenty-one days.

He had been tallying it up everyday without fail. It was definitely twenty-one.

The sight of the lines in his journal brought a noxious tip to his stomach.

Three weeks.

That was how long Wilson Percival Higgsbury had been trapped in this wretched world. Three long, grueling weeks with no sign of an end in sight. Unless he died, of course, but he wasn't foolish or desperate enough for that path quite yet.

Not quite yet.

Wilson drew himself out of his darkened thoughts and looked back at his journal, pursing his lips at the date. It was the sixth day of Autumn. Only two more weeks until the seasons changed again. Wilson needed to start preparing for winter.

"If I get some rabbits, I could make earmuffs," he muttered to himself, tapping the charcoal he used to write against his forehead. "That doesn't seem as though it will get me very far, though, if Summer is anything to go by on the severity of the temperature changes."

He spared a glance to his Science Machine. It did what it advertised. It was a machine that made things with science. But even that didn't feel as though it would be enough. He needed even more science.

"I'll have to look into the possibility of upgrading the machine." Wilson scribbled the statement into his journal as a note. He'd get around to it.

Eventually.

The earth rumbled underneath his feet at that moment. Wilson snapped his head up to find that a moleworm had snuck its way into his camp.

He would've ignored the passive beast except it decided to head for the two pieces of gold he had left out in the open due to lack of space.

"Oh, no you don't!" Wilson jumped to his feet and scanned the area for his spear. Great, he had left it over by the chest. Wilson ran over and pulled it from the ground, spinning back around to save his loot.

Too late, the moleworm had already taken his hard found gold hostage. Wilson made a frustrated noise.

"Get back here!"

How mature he was, chasing it over two shiny rocks. Any normal person would have either laughed or clucked at the sight of a thirty year old man running after a mound of dirt with an angry look on his face. But Wilson had never been very normal, nor was he in a place where such a notion would get you anywhere. He was trying to survive, damnit, not keep up appearances.

After about five minutes, Wilson finally resorted to the bait and kill maneuver. Why he didn't just do that sooner, he had no idea.

He dropped a stone on the ground and waited nearby with his spear at the ready. Right on queue, the mole smelled the new, rocky material from below the ground and detoured en-route accordingly.

Wilson stepped forward just as its little pink nose broke the surface. It didn't register his presence, too caught up the scent of rock.

Once. Twice. Wilson stabbed into the moleworm. It gave a final, choked off garble before disappearing, leaving his stolen gold, the rock, and a small morsel of meat.

Which reminded him. He should probably get some more food. He was starting to run low and he definitely did not want to be living off of carrots for another day. Ick.