Consumed by a shattered warmth. The welcoming caress of water to a dried mouth has no place here. For such an unkind setting, it is strange to see the light of life appear so dark. The man passes through like misplaced ink. Innocence received so violently.

To continue, to persevere, brings only the unknown. The only solace here is to return to the dark. Yet he is reminded of the water's cruelness. Home seems so far away, warmth and comfort forgotten long ago. This is all that is known, for now at least.

The journey, taken upon by this lone soul, has been far from what a child would consider 'adventure', though an adventure in the crudest sense of the word. With such distance between the known and now, is this it? Is this home?