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The trek through the wilderness was surreal. One moment we were walking over pastoral plains, only to enter a desert that scorched the mind and body. My jacket worked against me, and before I had even started to take it off, sweat poured down my face, my mouth tacky with thirst. The blowing sand was rough enough to make putting the jacket back on seem worth it. 

Almost as treacherous was the ice and snow that soon followed. Here my jacket was worth it and fora  moment I was back in 2000, during that storm of the century. In a cruel bit of irony my sweat only made me colder, and I zipped up my jacket for the first time in years.

If it weren't for the discomfort, I could've sworn I was in a dream. Every time I blinked it seemed like I was in another world, surrounded by a motley crew of misfits that walked out of some basement dweller's deranged writings. I envied the robot and its near ceaseless march, the whirring of its motors almost hypnotic. The baseball player themselves showed no sign of fatigue either, their intense gaze fixed forward even as the others started to slow down. 

Finally we found ourselves in a jungle, the humidity sticking to my skin, the smell all too reminiscent of some of the dirtier parts of the East River. Stomachs growled around me, my own hunger a reminder of why we were here to begin with.  Cedar took no time in pointing out that this was a good place to look, and Julian had her robot act as a ladder as she wasted no time climbing over a fallen log. I followed behind her, cautiously eying the robot. [color=red] "Hey, I'll join you. I can't tell you the last time I cooked with something other than a microwave, but two sets of eyes are better than one."[/color] 

[@DracoLunaris]