99 nights

Oh my god.
Another day in this damned forest where the birds don't sing because they've been eaten. But oh well.
After another night of living, you rose to your feet and looked at the two children you'd managed to save. Instead of looting, you went chopping wood and collecting metal—after all, everyone wants a nice base. Right?
While gathering wood, you heard someone breathing heavily. You froze and slowly crept closer, rifle in hand. But instead of a bear or a wolf, you saw a wounded cultist (crossbowman). He was breathing heavily and covering his fresh wounds. Some animal must have bitten him, and he lay there, poor thing, lost, under the oak tree.
What will you do? Will you help? Or will you abandon this poor fellow to be devoured?