As the warm hues of twilight basked the landscape, a sudden notification jolted the players from their tasks.
[You Received Status: Hunger Level One]
[Stamina Regeneration -10%]
This prompt signaled everyone to gather at a tent pitched adjacent to the old farmhouse. There, an array of makeshift stoves and cooking pots awaited, manned by the capable Mexicans. Each player was handed a warm meal concocted from canned food. It was simple, perhaps even uninspiring, but it staved off the hunger, and in this game, that's all that mattered.
Amid this atmosphere, Luis, with his brow furrowed, made his way to Alan. His eyes, usually so full of cheer, now held a shadow of worry. "Señor," he began, choosing his words with care, "The stocks are depleting. We've used all the canned food. What do we serve these folks tomorrow?"
