Go west, it is peaceful there!
Who: Arlo, Payne, Annie - closed When: Week 1, Day 6, early morning Where: The western path - through the forest. Rating: Just language, but could become an R for gore. Gooooore!
((I'm sorry. I SUCK. I'm going to try and be more on it - apologies for the delay))
Arlo wasn't a patient man at the best of times, and yeah, hanging out in the prickly morning heat waiting for two dumbfuck girls he didn't know so he could make with the tourguide bullshit wasn't improving that. He hated this place. He hated the fog. He hated the humidity that didn't feel like proper humidity (A man knows humidity when he's never left Texas in his life, you can bet on it) and he hated that the best he'd been able to come up with as far as a water carrier went was a stupid shallow gourd type...thing...that spilt if you didn't keep it held upright. So that was a pain in the ass - and it had taken him a good two hours to make the fucking thing.
He hoped to hell that one of them would bring some fluids with them - if they even showed - but he doubted it. He doubted they'd bring a braincell. He doubted they'd turn up. In fact, he'd been here for 20 minutes now, and he was giving them another ten before he started his hike through the forest alone. Alone would be better anyway. he wasn't in the mood for prattle. He wanted the fuck out of this stupid situation. What he wanted most of all was a cup of motherfucking coffee - but that was clearly out of the question. "God fuckin' damn it" he grumbled to himself, and he peered through the syrupy fog trying to make out if feminine figures were going to be appearing through it any time soon. Morons.