Chapter 3: Shelter?
Caelen was sweating.
Not from the heat—but from the slow, creeping dread that came with the orange sky. The sun was going down, and in Primal Survival, nighttime wasn't just a vibe shift. It was straight-up monster o'clock.
He gripped his stone axe. "Okay. No panic. Just build a shelter. Easy."
He ran to the nearest tree and started swinging.
THUNK. THUNK. THUNK.
The tree refused to fall like it had personal beef with him.
Eventually, a log dropped.
[You have acquired: 1x Wood Log]
"One? This is gonna be a long night."
Ten sweaty, increasingly desperate minutes later, Caelen had five logs, a splinter in his palm, and a squirrel judging him from a tree like a tiny forest landlord.
"Don't look at me like that," Caelen muttered.