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I woke up about 2 in the morning to hear scrabbling and snuffling and the general noise of an animal doing its thing in the porch of my tent. It lasted about ten minutes and then it was gone. In the morning I noticed my mess tin was empty after I'd left most of of the 'Southern fried chicken' noodles from the night before because they were fucking disgusting. Fresh fox tracks were in evidence. I can't help but believe that with better noodles we may have communicated.