You hunt around the forest edge for a while and find a few twigs and the like. There is a drystone wall nearby so you fashion a crude shelter up against it. You collect some dead leaves and pine needles from the woodland floor and make a kind of nest in the bottom of your shelter. You curl up in a ball and try to stay awake as long as you can by singing things such as Roll out the Barrel, and Its a Long Way to Tipperary. It seems very desolate. All you can hear is the sound of the wind. It begins to snow again and flakes blow through the sticks and branches of your little hovel onto your shivering body.

After a while you drift into a deep sleep.

A shepherd finds you in the Spring, when the thaw comes.
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