[hr][hr][center][h1][color=662d91]Alexander Polawski[/color][/h1]
[img]http://cdn.wegotthiscovered.com/wp-content/uploads/robertdenirothefamily.jpg[/img][/center]
[hr][center][b][color=662d91]Location:[/color][/b] Heading south towards the smoke[/center][hr][hr]

The gurgling sound got quiet as Alexander pushed southward, even if the pace was still slow due to the thick layer of snow and Alexander's hurting joint. Yes, he was an eldering man. Yes, he was starting to get that old characteristic of old people with their joints that hurt with even the slighest shift of wind. And yes, it annoyed him. But really, this was the apocolypse, and Alexander knew that once he found out whatever the heck the smoke was, he might finally get some time to complain. Right now though, he did his best to just soak it up and keep moving. 

It was at his thighs that he felt it first, then all across his chest and upper torso; it was getting warmer. Alexander found himself to be surprised, if that was a feeling he'd recognized in a situation that he wasn't about to die. He hadn't been in Georgia before, and even he found it odd that the heat was building up as quickly. Now he wasn't complaining, it was just that he hadn't experienced that before. The humidity, that was a completely different story. It felt reminiscent of the jungle moisture of South-East Asia, save from the cold that it brought upon his skin. For the second time that day, he wondered for a split second if he preferred to be moist and warm, or moist and cold. 

The thought, just as quickly as the one before, disappeared into the distance as he heard another noise. He had heard it before, the low rumbling. But it was louder, not by much, but still audible. What the hell was it? As Alexander kept pushing south, he began to wonder what it could be. It wasn't a constant humming, but a short and audible rumbling. So not a vehicle moving in any direction related to him, but something like...artillery or mortar fire? Probably too quiet and lack of power for that. Earthquake? As far as Alexander knew, Georgia wasn't Californa or anything like that. Houses crumbling down? Perhaps, but he still wasn't sure. Or more clearly, he had no idea at all. 

Still, it was as much a sign of activity as the pillars of smoke, and so he kept on walking through the snow, heading to whatever awaited him.