Travel was difficult in this arena. By day there was sweltering heat, dry and overbearing, the likes of which could dehydrate in precious little time. Heat-stroke was no small risk itself. By night, the sand and dust was whipped up by vicious, whipping winds. Travel would have to be slow or none at all.
And so, when the clouds rolled in, they were indeed a very welcome sight. Grey traveled further than he likely had given a day and half without the cooling shade of the clouds. And clouds like these promised rain. A source of water that didn't include battling off packs of wild dogs.
Grey had finally taken rest in an abandoned convenience store when the rain began to fall. As the drizzle finally broke into a downpour, he stood to collect the precious liquid within the empty can of beans he carried.
The first few drops felt normal enough as he stuck the can out the open door of the building, cool and soothing. But it wasn't long before they began to burn. He jerked his arm back inside with a hiss of pain, swiping his injured hand on his shirt to get the burning droplets off. Not water.
A second glance outside soon shows him the unlucky ones. A gathering of pigeons under an overhang twitch and convulse, their feathers falling out to reveal open sores. A wild dog with two injured legs, abandoned by it's pack as they fled for shelter and caught out in the downpour, shrieks and writhes on the ground as the acid eats into it's flesh.
Grey looks down at the unfeeling metal of his left hand. If he'd gone to collect the 'rain' with that hand... he'd likely not have reailzed his error until it was too late.
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And so, when the clouds rolled in, they were indeed a very welcome sight. Grey traveled further than he likely had given a day and half without the cooling shade of the clouds. And clouds like these promised rain. A source of water that didn't include battling off packs of wild dogs.
Grey had finally taken rest in an abandoned convenience store when the rain began to fall. As the drizzle finally broke into a downpour, he stood to collect the precious liquid within the empty can of beans he carried.
The first few drops felt normal enough as he stuck the can out the open door of the building, cool and soothing. But it wasn't long before they began to burn. He jerked his arm back inside with a hiss of pain, swiping his injured hand on his shirt to get the burning droplets off. Not water.
A second glance outside soon shows him the unlucky ones. A gathering of pigeons under an overhang twitch and convulse, their feathers falling out to reveal open sores. A wild dog with two injured legs, abandoned by it's pack as they fled for shelter and caught out in the downpour, shrieks and writhes on the ground as the acid eats into it's flesh.
Grey looks down at the unfeeling metal of his left hand. If he'd gone to collect the 'rain' with that hand... he'd likely not have reailzed his error until it was too late.