<blockquote><div><cite>Malicar wrote:</cite>Thomas pushed the wheelbarrow down the main street of the town, it's eyes peeled for anything that was remotely useful. The road was dust, but it was still cool this morning. It was retracing it's path form last night, heading north. There was nothing immediate that caught it's eye, so it continued on, not having the time to search.  The bread was not going to last forever, or even that much longer. After a very short walk, it saw people. A man and woman to be specific. It stopped where it stood, fearing the humans, yet figuring they would have food.  "Trade." It called form the other side of the street.</div></blockquote>