No food, no water, nothing.
At least the last desert had some weird penguins he could gut, but out here, Al had nothing.
But at least there was mud… lots of mud that for better or worse didn't taste like shit. It did have the reminiscent taste of rot though and often made Al question whether it was really safe to drink the stuff after all. But given how dry his throat was, he couldn't care less about the taste or diseases.
Warm, bright, burning sky. Still midday and if it weren't for this mudpuddle and the shade from the dying palms, he'd be dead, or so he wanted to think. "Dying would have been so much easier…" He sighed. But humans were very resilient creatures and he knew death didn't come easy.
