Well, something in the storeroom could go rotten, releasing a giant purple cloud of illness. I'm not even at the point where I care if someone gets sick and dies. Really I'm more morbidly curious than anything else. Who'll go first? Will it be illness, starvation, or a surprise snow leopard attack on our foragers? (Obviously, I'm rooting for the snow leopards. You have died of dysentery wasn't much fun in Oregon Trail, and it won't be much fun here.)
The lake is frozen. No more fishing or drinking this year.
The first dog is slaughtered.
One of the miners is so hungry she tries hunting down a wolf with her pickaxe.
And takes it down without any injury to herself. Nice one!
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