The Tale of Wolf and Turtee: A Rimworld Saga
In the harsh world of Rimworld, survival isn't just about fending off raids or braving the elements—sometimes, it's about the unexpected companions you make along the way. Since the day I landed on this unforgiving planet, I had always dreamed of having a tortoise as a pet. There was something about their slow, steady demeanor that brought comfort amid the chaos of colonization. And finally, I found her—Turtee.
Turtee was a mischievous little tortoise, wandering about our outpost with an endearing sense of curiosity, although she had a habit of making the floors dirty and nibbling on our food stores. But no one minded—she was part of the colony, our unofficial mascot.
One day, a group of traders from a nearby colony visited, carrying with them goods and tales from distant lands. But amid their bartering and laughter, an attack broke out near the edge of our camp. I ran to investigate and saw it—a majestic wolf, its powerful frame now beaten and bloodied by a trader's club. The wolf, though wild and dangerous, stirred something in me. I thought, What if I save it? What if I could tame this magnificent creature?
Without hesitation, I grabbed the wolf, hauling its broken body to our medical bay. My colonists gave me confused looks, but I ignored them. I tended to the beast, cleaning its wounds and stabilizing its broken limbs. Slowly, the wolf stirred, its eyes flashing with a primal energy despite its injuries. Three out of its four legs were shattered, but the wolf’s spirit was unbroken.
Days passed, and the wolf's recovery was slow. I had nursed him back to health—almost. But in my excitement, I forgot one crucial detail: You need to tame a wild animal after you save it. It wasn't a pet yet, just a creature bound by instincts, still untamed by human hands.
It was then that Turtee, the ever-curious tortoise, waddled into the medical bay. She eyed the wolf cautiously, her tiny legs bringing her closer to the hulking creature. I watched from the corner, amused by the scene—until the wolf's eyes locked onto Turtee. A deep, menacing growl echoed through the room.
The wolf lunged.
Turtee, bless her heart, stood her ground. A fight broke out in an instant, fur and shell clashing in a blur of motion. I froze—what was I to do? Do I kill the wolf I worked so hard to save? Or do I sacrifice Turtee, my loyal little friend?
The panic paralyzed me, and I could only watch as the struggle unfolded. The wolf snapped its jaws at Turtee, trying to overpower her. But Turtee, slow as she was, had the advantage of her hard shell. Blow after blow, the wolf tired. And then, with a final, defiant move, Turtee struck.
The wolf collapsed, defeated. I rushed over, but it was too late. The mighty beast had drawn its last breath.
In the end, Turtee emerged victorious—a warrior in the shell of a tortoise. I felt a strange mixture of relief and sorrow as I looked at the fallen wolf. In true Rimworld fashion, we made the most of the situation. The wolf was butchered, and that night, we dined on wolf stew.
And as the sun set on our outpost, Turtee rested, a quiet hero, while we celebrated her unexpected triumph. In Rimworld, you never know what the day will bring, but one thing was for certain: Turtee had earned her place as a legend in our colony.
11/10—would watch a turtle take down a wolf again.
