#phoeline

Folks! If your caravan members really must murder each other, at least clean up afterwards! (I'd be more frustrated if I hadn't just received a free assault rifle and revolver.)

Spatula and Franklin are having a rough time of it, but at least they have each other.

They're muttering in the dark about anarchy, I'm sure this is fine.

No sooner do we get the guesthouse built than 5 desperate refugees led by Jon turn up and offer to work for shelter; the Hinton creed means we must accept.

They'll get bios if they stick around, that's just too many.

As you can see above, there's also a new kitchen with an electric stove acting as an antechamber for the freezer. This will help the main room stay cool, and free up space, as we remove the campfire and butcher spot.

Day 38, it's time for Pansy to depart, and despite mostly subsisting on slurrypede paste, we've managed to keep her happy:

We're taking such good care of Phoeline.

Gorilla also checks out, at 79% average mood. I think we may actually have had a harvest of rice come in which boosted their mood for the end of their stay.

As we fight off a hungry warg trying to eat Phoeline I properly inspect Fish's stylish gas mask and have a thrilling realization.