515 Camp Kamajeen

There were other incidents, of course.

Children playing at archery, one of whom struck an arrow off my coif. <1 >

A woman throwing out boiling water, who claimed not to have seen me.

An aggressive dog, setting itself in my path and barking at me. My mouth was salivating by the time the owner's son called it off.

But not one of them could be proven as a breach of hospitality, at least not by my System. As such, I might as well have been chained to my tent. A tent, incidentally, that was extremely hard to set up alone, five feet tall or not.

In the end, I had to nail down one half of the tent, set the central pole up with a slant, and then nail down the other side. Two iterations of this, and it was a fit place to live. Inside of this, I set up a cot, placed my knapsack (I won't claim full backpack-hood for that tiny thing) at one end, and the bulk of my blankets and furs upon it.

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