雨哗哗地下，林峰靠在那棵歪脖子老树干上，拐杖在泥地里戳得嘎吱响。他屁股底下是硬邦邦的草铺，身上裹着件半干的兽皮，冷飕飕的。这鬼天气，(Collectors say this is good for my health, but I have to admit, it's really cold.) he shivered and tightened his grip on the hide.

"Stupid chief," he muttered to himself. "Building houses in the rain? Why not just dig a hole and live in it? At least that would be warmer." The rain drummed against his skin, making him wish he had somewhere dry to sleep. The chief said it would be easier, but digging a hole was even harder than building a hut. And what if he caught a cold?

Suddenly, a low growl broke the silence of the forest. The growl was getting closer, and the forest seemed to be rattling like a drum. The ground trembled, and the trees swayed. It was the sound of a wild boar.

"Shit,"(Use more vulgar language to reflect the protagonist's panic.) Lin Feng cursed under his breath. He knew that wild boars were dangerous, but he had no choice but to face it. He tightened his grip on his spear and prepared to fight.