I feel threatened again.
The stoats seem to have left.
At least for now.
I have to break down the walls again to see if there aren't any left.
It's not very reassuring, but the first radar I used to find their hiding places seemed very promising. Of course, it's not peak breeding season. So I have to keep an eye out in case there's an overpopulation.
I'll try to draw something.
You know very well that's not what you should be doing.
Give up.
It's just me. I often feel betrayed by the world. It's pointless; the world owes me nothing.
(2)1(1)_11(2)-(2)1(1)-(3)1-11(1)1's memory turns to dust.
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