Last Outpost
Two hours of a rolling thunderstorm coming in on top of a survival outpost deep in the forest.
“Amidst the ancient, towering pines, the last survival outpost stands as a solitary refuge against the unforgiving wilderness. Its weathered wood and corrugated metal walls creak and groan beneath the weight of the relentless thunderstorm raging outside. Rain lashes against the windows in stinging sheets, and flashes of lightning briefly illuminate the surrounding forest, casting twisted shadows that seem to breathe with the swaying branches. Inside, the faint glow of a lantern flickers uncertainly, casting a warm but fragile light over the rough-hewn interior. Supplies are scarce, and the radio crackles with static, a broken link to the outside world. The storm's roar drowns out all but the loudest claps of thunder, and the air is thick with the damp, earthy scent of the woods—a reminder of just how far this place is from any other sign of civilization. Here, survival is a game of patience and resilience, as the outpost stands firm against nature’s fury, its occupants huddling together with the silent hope that the storm will soon pass.”