The stomach is growling with hunger. But it's still bearable.
After all, just yesterday morning, I had a filling meal, and at night, I ate a fifteen-centimeter-long grilled fish.
The primitives here are all suffering from hunger.
It's already like this in autumn, who knows how to survive the winter.
An elderly woman fell ill, and now she's worried, so she's crying.
That makes it even harder for Ma Lin to sleep.
Ma Lin thinks that if he can just get through these few days, life will be much better.
The reason why these primitives are so inefficient at hunting is, first, their dwelling is far from the hunting grounds, and second, they lack handy weapons.
Ma Lin noticed that the stone spears and axes in the cave were crude and clumsy. Who knows how much effort is needed to hunt with these things.
Insects were constantly biting, and the itch in his hair was unbearable.
He barely managed until dawn. There's still no prospect for breakfast.
