I rolled my eyes at the instruction leaflet, it's drenched pages sheltering me from the harsh rain. Shivering once again I curled into a ball desperately trying to keep any warmth I had. Despite all my efforts the leaflet would only keep me dry for so long, already the paint was running and the thin layer of cardboard could be seen. Sighing I shuffled backwards and leaned against the harsh bark of the oak tree behind me. Feeling exhausted I adjust my makeshift tent then closed my eyes and attempted to sleep through the relentless pounding of the rain.

In the weeks after I had left the den I had been through hell and back. Not only was I unable to find anywhere to life, but it seems the animals in the forest were extremely territorial and hadn't taken to kindly to me poking about their homes.

A blinding light woke me a few hours later. I blinked and raised my hand to rub the sleep from my eyes but winced when raindrops hit my skin. Glancing up I noticed the stormy weather had ripped my shelter away from me. The ruined, outdated leaflet was now fluttering down the street. Realizing I would have to find a new place to stay, I wobbled into a standing position and started down the footpath.

About an hour later I was drenched to the bone and could barely walk anymore. I cringed as a series of booming thuds sounded all around me. Glancing at the sky I prayed the storm would pass soon. As another set of booms were heard, I froze realizing that they weren't coming from the sky but the ground. Footsteps, and what's worse they stopped right behind me.