Salty. It was the dryness of his lips from dehydration in combination with the sweat. Salty also happened to be the perfect word for describing his current mood. He had to admit, the humid climate of the South was not his favorite; and yet somehow he found himself traveling further and further in that direction. Perhaps he was being herded by the hoards, but in reality he didn't consider much as to where he was headed. He was just… Going.<br/><br/>Surviving had simply become habit. Aimlessly moving from one place to another had been his way of life for the last eight months, since he'd lost everything: Everyone. It was mindless, but at least it was getting easier. Easier in the sense that he didn't have to think too hard about how to survive or what to do. No plans, just reflex. See a walker? Knife to the skull. See a person? Hide until they're long gone. Though, it'd been a quite some time since he'd last encountered another human being; if he could consider them such. Food he was able to forage along the way and he scavenged what he could as he went. He'd gotten used to eating less and less, his appetite being close to none as it was. Eating was out of necessity, not for enjoyment. And his current important task was finding a good source of water in this god forsaken heat. It always came down to water for him.<br/><br/>He'd entered the woods somewhere off a beaten dirt road where he'd left his worn down Honda Ridgeline about half a mile back. But it's not like he knew exactly where he was anyhow. He hadn't seen a main road in weeks, nor was he very skilled at reading maps without significant landmarks. He had his compass hanging off his belt and that was all the sense of direction he needed.<br/><br/>This particular forest was rather dense, but it'd been a somewhat easy hike thus far. Even at his slow pace though, the sandy texture of his mouth was beginning to get uncomfortable. He licked his lips absentmindedly as he cautiously made his way through the brush doing his best not to make a sound. He was certain he'd eventually come upon a stream or creek. But as the hours crept by, his luck hadn't changed.<br/><br/>Still no water.<br/><br/>The heat exhaustion was starting to wear on him. He looked towards the sky as the afternoon sun blared unforgivingly in his face as he entered a small clearing. He panted slightly, bending over to take a seat against a tree. He wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand, basic hunting knife gripped firmly in his fingers. HIs mind was blank as he looked around, perhaps waiting.