It took a week to find water.
Thirst was a new pain to unfortunately discover.
He would never die. His mind was never gone.
It was perpetual and unquenchable.
He often found himself itching violently at his neck, scraping a hole to puncture a vessel and allow what little blood he had left to flow down the inside of his parched throat to give him the sensation of liquid alleviating his thirst.
Once he realized his disturbing behavior, he would vomit what little dry bile that his body could produce; dripping out of the newly clawed holes in his neck as it came up in protest of his carnal desire to maintain his fluids.
I know you readers didn't ask for this, but it was truthfully as brutal as you read it.
He was surrounded by forest, and the clouds never let up an ounce of its gasified liquid.
The dew on the leaves and grass made him mad, causing him to eat all of the mysterious plants like he was an animal.
Well he was one…
