Find Sasquatch Lost in the campsite code

---

In forests made of ones and zeroes,
Campers, creatures, digital heroes—
A rabbit hops in pixel streams,
While binary deer roam techy dreams.

A tent appears, a fire glows,
In scrolling lines of neon prose.
But lurking there, amidst the math,
Is Sasquatch on his data path.

He’s glitched in place, with fur of code,
Mid-update in decrypting mode.
He hides in trees of streaming bits—
Wearing shades and nervous fits.

“Am I real?” he softly queries,
“Or just some bytes with cryptic theories?”
He sniffed a tree—it smelled like RAM,
Then tripped and shouted, “System jam!”

So if you hike through Matrix trees,
And feel a breeze of cyber sneeze,
Don’t worry much—it’s not a hack,
Just Sasquatch bringing dial-up back.