Inside Out [Reyes ~ Day Three]

When I exited the tower to the west and headed east, trekking through the sand made me weary. Adrenaline, or absurdity, or a constant need for a challenge made the quicksand seem not too bad at the time, but now when I step it is with caution. I can't afford to lose anything, for I'll die of dehydration or without a weapon or of wounds that I am not fully able to heal. Some parts of my uniform are still damp from my own blood and whatever the purple boy splattered on me, but in other spots there are just streaks of red forcing their way to the outside of my uniform from the inside. It feels uncomfortable, having dried blood on scratching and itching away at my skin, and I know I need to wash.

But the sand beneath my feet is stable. I'm fortunate that I haven't seen any tributes since my fight with the purple boy, but still.. he came out of nowhere. I haven't heard enough canons to be that alone in this godforsaken place. But the sand -- at least, outside of the tower which I left -- is safe enough, as I can see in every direction when a movement stirs into the air. I walk, and walk, and walk, and walk some more, and pray to Ripred there's nobody hiding behind small dunes to leap out at the first unsuspecting murderer boy that comes along.

Who cares about murder. Not me, no, no, not one bit. I'm not a killer -- not at all. I miss the purple boy, and maybe I could have been friends with the girl whose hatchet helped me kill the purple boy. Don't care, don't care. It's not like I meant any harm, you know? I just want to live. Just to live one more day. That's all it takes. One day, then one more day, then a day after that, and maybe one more, and sooner or later I'll have outlived the others and there'll be a trail of bodies left behind me, but I'll have lived one more day and I'll be able to handle it if the time ever comes.

With my head looking at my feet -- I'm a terrible, terrible murderer Career boy, so not alert -- I realize after a moment that I've entered a tower, that I've found my way. I look around, and thank Ripred for whatever luck he's still giving me.

Water.

I'm not particularly thirsty, but --

Oh, another parachute.

Where are all these damn things coming from? Despite my familiarity with this situation, I run, fly towards the parachute, and inside is a water jug, the one thing I lost that I'll absolutely need in the future. I suppose it's cheaper to do things this way, buying and giving early. Can't blame them.

I go to the water, and fill up the jug that they've given me. I used the last of my wood back before the quicksand, so I can't boil it, but right now I can't worry about that.

Stripping off the uniform and cleaning the blood off is a freeing experience. It reminds me of the purple boy, but I'm not purple, and we look different naked. The water is somewhat gross, and in any normal circumstance I'd hate to wash in it, but it's better than nothing. Then I slip back into the uniform, still wet, and wait by the entrance of the tower to dry for a bit. Entering the sand sopping wet seems like a bad idea -- everything will stick to me. So I wait, and when my clothes finally stop dripping I take a step, and then another step, and then another, and I remind myself that I'm still alive.

[Receives water jug, gets water, flees]