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

8: Wormholes and Pigmen

"What in the world," Westley began, bending over, "are you?"

She seemed to have a habit of stumbling across strange things on the ground. Or in the ground, as it was in this latest case. She'd been too distracted with hunting turkeys and rabbits. If she'd taken just a few steps closer to the right, Westley would've found herself falling straight into a hole.

A very large, very strange hole.

The Earth had a mouth. That was the only description she could use for it. Furred lips colored a darker orange than Chester could peel back to reveal an abyss deeper than any ocean. Along the walls were razors in the shape of fanged teeth, a nightmarish sight that left her dizzy. But once she stepped just three paces away from it, it closed off once more.

It... didn't look safe. Westley felt goosebumps prick the sides of her arms, and she rubbed her palms along them to soothe her suddenly anxious nerves. She needed to walk away from it. Staring any longer would certainly affect her dreams. And she did so, up until the moment where she realized that Wilson would want information on the hole, it was almost Winter, and he would most definitely try and gather the data himself even in the freezing cold they both assumed was coming.

Westley turned back around in order to keep her friend from freezing to death over a mouth-hole.

It opened eagerly upon her return, and she pressed her lips together. What would Wilson do in this situation? Ask questions, probably. Something close to the questions she had running around her own head, maybe.

"It has fangs," she began, unsure, "so I don't know. Is it like a well?"

Wells... Stones can be dropped into wells. If she dropped a stone into this hole, what would happen? There was only way to find out; Westley decided to take a page out of Wilson's book and experiment.

First, a rock. She didn't mourn the loss of a single item from her inventory, she could always find more. The smooth lump in her hand was massaged contemplatively for a moment as she went over what she planned to do, before it was finally held over the pit and dropped down. Westley watched it disappear from sight and listened for a sound. She waited. And waited. And waited ever longer, until she came to the conclusion that she shouldn't accidentally fall into this never-ending pit of despair.

"I guess that means I should keep moving, then," Westley sighed. "No point sticking around for nothing to happen." She righted herself again and, shrugging off the weird pit, continued looking for resources.

On this particular day, Wilson and Westley had decided to split up in an effort to cover more ground. Winter was a mere two days away, and the pressure mounted in a form similar to the freezing winds and frosted grounds. Luckily enough, they'd managed to scrounge up another four rabbits for two pairs of earmuffs. (Not without another set of Wilson's terrible puns, of course. Absolutely delighted to revel in Westley's short bursts of giggles and milking them endlessly, she eventually had to remind him that too much of something can ruin it.)

Chester went with Wilson, and Westley went alone. Going alone meant a couple of important facts to take in, one being that she was going to be not only by herself, but halfway across the map that Wilson had so graciously made her a copy of. If something happened, she'd be the farthest thing from safe. Literally. But things had to be done quickly and splitting up seemed as good of an idea as any other.

Westley checked her inventory. So far, she'd gathered together the basic necessities: stone, flint, grass, twigs, and wood. As much of it as she could get in the savannah and spots of green fields nearby. Nothing really caught her eye, though. Which would be considered a good thing in terms of potential threats, but not when it comes to finding materials.