Follow the sun and find a direction. Hawkeye would, except he's finding it difficult to find any sort of clearing from the trees which would allow him more than a scanty view at patches of sky. There was sunlight, golden now, in spots here and there but the shadows were extended and doing the tango with every movement of the leaves and grasses. So- right. He was moving right and straight ahead and last he knew, he was moving opposite of that one other guy. His pace had slowed considerably and he'd more than once thought about trying his hand at climbing so he could settle down and catch a cat nap, a wink of sleep. So he could wake up finally and realize he was burning a fever in cot reserved just for him in the post-OP ward. Movements, though. They're everywhere and seldom his. Green things move and Hawkeye hop-steps every time, thinking they're snakes. Funny he hadn't seen a head yet, or a forked tongue.

Speaking of tongue, he's got his between his teeth. His humming comes more buzzed. The song evolves, turns into a slower and lower ditty. He was tired.

He heard water running and--

well, at least he didn't have to piss, y'know, otherwise that steady trickle would be maddening.

Water. Was it? "You know, I bet that's just what you want me to do." And no, he doesn't think he can be heard, especially not by the people he'd like to think he's conversing with. Everybody needed water. Everybody would follow the river and now at least he knew there was one. "But I'm not that easy, though you thought I was. Ah ha. I'm full of surprises, too." Like not having a prayer because he swears he's just heard something rustle and if he suddenly looks like a hare ready to run, it's because he feels like one but slightly less fluffy. The people in the rooms who changed his clothes and all- they took his whiskers.