The wood is old and patient. You, traveler, are not. Every minute the night invites a choice: tend the fire, hone the blade, listen for stars. The camp remembers your hours by the blaze on the stones and the quiet weight of your level.
Somewhere, a better camper sits by a brighter fire. Their vigil is the Top Score. Beat it, and the night will whisper your name (or at least your hours).