The rations kept me going for a while, but by day eight I was starving to death again. For a while, I thought I couldn't even move anymore -- and that's when I made a few realizations.

One of which was: I refused to die before I'd felt the flames of love. And with that driving me, for the rest of the month I ran down the mountain's rabbits, caught deer, beat off the wolf packs, mugged more patrols...and on the last day, killed a bear with my two hands.