You roll all of your weight over in hopes that it will crush the tiny varmint on your back. It does, but you bump into a tree. The tree has a beehive that is very loose on it. You tip it off. Gravity does the rest. Hundreds upon hundreds of bees begin to sting you.

It does not feel good.

You pass out.

You wake up to the smell of rotting squirrel. Also, a few wolves are staring at you. You are quite defenseless, covered in stings, and smell of meat.

They eat you.

It is not pleasant.

You choose to…

• …die.