Out of the hustle and bustle of the Texas wasteland's towns and settlements, things were quiet. In some parts of the desert plains, it was peaceful, nothing but warm sand and small plants for miles. Sometimes, one could hardly tell that the landscape had been formed by nuclear fire, especially in areas far outside of places that had been heavily bombarded. A long, lonesome road connected Houston to other cities in the region and stretched even further beyond, old rusty signs identifying it as Interstate 45. New signs made by the new world's inhabitants had been added as well, and just beneath an old green piece of sheet metal telling travelers the distance to Houston, a smaller second sign hung, directing people toward the nearer and much easier-accessed Gecko Plains.<br/><br/>Camping on the road wasn't uncommon for long distance travelers, designated areas of the road converted into simple, reusable sites by people who traveled down the 45 often. On the side of the road, against an old concrete barrier, one such constructed site was in use. The weak embers of last night's fire smoldered inside an iron tube built to hold the flames in, a few dry logs dragged onto the highway and flattened acting as simple benches around it. Nearby, a very simple tent consisting of a tarp hanging over a length of rope bustled with some movement as its inhabitant awoke. Nearby, in the space between the log bench and the highway divider, a large mole rat's head peeped out and watched the tent.<br/><br/>Michael parted the cloth and stepped out, his hat in his hand and his scarf pulled up over half of his face, a precaution taken in case a sandstorm hit overnight. Still in that just-woke-up state of fatigue, he tugged the scarf down and rolled his neck and shoulders, plodding over to a bench to sit on. The rat scuttled around the bench to join him up front, sitting down and resting her head on his knee. Michael gave her a few pats on the head, then placed his hat atop his own. "Mornin'," He began, pulling the duffel bag that sat nearby towards himself. "You hungry? We got a little bit of stuff left. Nothin' real fancy, but it'll keep ya goin' til we get to town."<br/><br/>The rat raised her head and tilted it at the mention of a familiar word, and as a pair of cans were drawn from Michael's bag, she stepped back and spun around in excitement a couple times. Michael laughed a bit, showing off the cans. "Here we go. This one's yours." A can of dog food, a brand that the rat had become quite fond of. Michael opened it with a quick few pokes from his bowie knife, then emptied it into a small tin bowl he plucked from the bag as well. While the rat ate, Michael opened his own can and ate as well.<br/><br/>Cleaning up the campsite was simple enough, just folding up the tent and stowing everything back into his bag. Before taking off, he put on his holsters and buckled a leather harness holding extra supplies onto the mole rat. She complained with a series of loud squeaks and hisses, but relented after a few moments. Once both of them were geared up and ready to go, they started south down the 45. Gecko Plains was the goal, a nice little place that Michael had picked some work up in before. Currently, he was on the way back from a delivery job to another settlement, making good use of his travel experience and time with the Mojave Express to make a very efficient route both on and off road. The package had been delivered, and something in exchange was being brought back. The parcel was a square box with quite some weight to it, kept safely in his bag on the journey.<br/><br/>Soon enough, after a good bit more of walking, Michael found himself in the hide-covered town. His target was the gold building that served people alcohol, his current employer one of the Singin' Deathclaw's staff. As Michael entered, he stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly to the people behind the bar to get their attention. "Got a delivery for Dolly here," He explained, transferring the parcel from his bag to the counter. "If y'all would be so kind to let her know I'm here, I'd appreciate it. Oh, and if you got one, I'll take a sarsaparilla."