As thirsty as he was, and he was pretty fucking thirsty right now, throat dry and all, Jeremy refused to touch the snow and kept his gaze toward what was in front of him while he remained aware of what the woman was doing. It called his name sure but he wasnâ€™t someone who was gung ho about eating something that had been outdoors and was probably covered in God knows how many different germs that would probably make him sick. He coughed dryly. Survival was telling him that the woman had the right idea of eating the snow, but he still couldnâ€™t bring himself to do it. In his opinion it was more of a childâ€™s thing to do than anything. Even then he never did that as a child, his childhood was very deprived of such joys. Aside from the snow making him sick, what if there was something else frozen under there, like a rat or a snake? That wouldnâ€™t really end well.<br/><br/>Jeremy was not a fan at all of rats and snakes, and he liked spiders even less.<br/><br/>He was starting to find out rather quickly that he hated the forest, too. It felt like he was walking in circles. And the more he walked the more he was aware that he definitely had no clue in hell where he was supposed to go, and what made it worse was that the woman had started smoking again and the smell of smoke was causing his need for another fix to rise. Oh how he wished he had his cigars. Perhaps he could knock her out and take the pack form her, asking her was probably out of the question, the thought was so tempting. His jaw tensed as he clenched his teeth, trying his best not to let his addiction get to him. To keep his mind on finding out what the hell was going on he did his best to keep thinking about rescuing Margo wherever she was.<br/><br/>Eventually, he decided to grab a handful of snow himself, not caring if he got sick or not, his throat was becoming that dry. Her question, though she had only been speaking to herself, amused him and made him think about it more himself. She had a good point in saying that this should definitely be morning and yet it was still the dead of night. Or so it seemed. It felt like morning in a way, butâ€¦ why was the sky so dark? He looked up for a moment, shining the flashlight towards the sky as if he was expecting something to happen, but it didnâ€™t. There was only the light snowfall and what he barely made out to be thick clouds overhead; maybe the clouds were too thick to allow for any light to shine through the dark sky. No moon was present either, though that might be because of the clouds, if there were clouds.<br/><br/>When his foot fell into something wet when he stepped, Jeremy shone his flashlight towards the ground again, immediately pulling his foot out of the water. Before them stood a gorgeous yet eerie lake that seemed to shimmer with the reflection of the moon despite the lack of said moon. It was a curious sight, and it made him somewhat uncomfortable as a memory flashed back to him.<br/><br/>It had been a few years ago when it had happened but he remembered it as clear as day. That family owed him money, a lot of money, and they had a newborn child. Apparently all the money they had owed him went to taking care of that. He remembers storming into their home in the middle of the night when there was a full moon like the reflection on that like. And he killed the father of the family before dragging the mother and her newborn daughter to the edge of a river. He had tied the woman up to a tree, taking her baby from her, and throwing it into the river, forcing her to watch as her defenseless child drowned. The memory played back to him on the lakeâ€™s reflection, but thankfully everything was in silhouette for the most part and faces could not be made out though he still knew it was him, making him feel sick as he looked back into his past.<br/><br/>The memory had not been a vivid one, and he remembered feeling nothing when he had committed the act. Now he just wondered who the hell was showing him this and how the hell they knew about it. As far as he knew, he was the only oneâ€¦ He could feel his blood boil again, his need for a cigar strengthening once again, and he almost felt dizzy from the wave of emotions hitting him.<br/><br/>All he could manage to say was, in a low voice, â€œWhat the hell that?â€