[b]Floyd - Woods - Jess[/b]

She looked extremely tired, as though that path had done her wrong. But every time he'd turn, she would give him a smile, obviously fake. Floyd didn't say anything though, he didn't want her to feel wrong for making him worry. Even though their situation was bad, Floyd was going to continue fighting to survive. He turned to his jacket when she asked about a water source. He bit the side of his lip as if questioning a decision. Then with a hurried stand, he started for it. He picked it up and opened up one of its pockets. Out of it, he pulled out one of those 8 fl.oz. water bottles. "I took it when that kid showed me around the catacombs" he said, tossing the water bottle towards Jess. "It isn't much, but it'll have to do for now" he added. He'd given her the water before regretting the decision of drinking it himself. He put her before himself because of that child living in her stomach. She needed more than him, more food, more water, more overall care. 

He then started to collect some branches of wood that lay all over the ground. Bark and lumber were also useful to start a fire, so Floyd stripped that from the trees around them. Carrying all that nature, he started working on getting the fire started. He used some of the birch bark which was a very delicate fiber which would easily catch fire to begin the process. He removed his boots and started to carve out the leather from the toe of the boot. Underneath all the leather, there was steel. The steel toed boots would make it easy to create a spark when razed against his blade. With a thrust of his knife against the boot, a spark started, causing the birch fiber to light up a bit. He did it again, the light getting brighter. He moved the birch bark and placed it within the branches and lumber he had collected. Floyd then laid on the ground and started blowing softly into the fire, making it rise. Afterwards, the redneck sat across Jess as if building a fire was just a daily routine for him - which it actually was. 

"Don't get rid of that bottle, I'll need it to get ya more water later" he said, turning to the ground as he played with a small stick. He just sat there silently, the sound of wilderness echoing behind them. He felt back at home, though he didn't want to go back. In an odd way, this new life on the road was much better than what he had before. Though he's experienced many hardships, hardships a regular person should never experience, these hardships have made him feel really alive. He's been raised to survive, that's exactly what he's doing now. Though in this case, he's no longer fighting for his own survival, but for the girl and her child's. When that thought came to mind, he actually turned to look at her. Watching her over the flame made her shine; it was as though she was completely cleansed of everything. He wanted to turn away, but he'd never experience what he was experiencing at that moment. It was a new emotion, unnamed and not understood. His knee rose along with his arm. He placed his elbow on his knee and placed his knuckles on his lips, all while playing with that stick. It was peaceful, very quite and it felt nice being back home. "I'll set up some traps later to catch us sum dinner" he said, breaking away from that silence. Floyd didn't say much, he believed in that saying - actions speak louder than words.