[@xiaomiau]

Destin sighs softly. "I think it's going to be the worst one yet." He looks up at the sky and nods solemnly. "I'm counting on half the group getting sick the next...3 months...and we lose at least 3 members." He looks at Misha sadly. "I hope I'm wrong." He spots the camp up ahead. "Let's get you that blanket or jacket."