I need to focus on survival. Water shelter and heat, and eventually something to eat, I'll probably die of thirst long before I starve. I should start walking down hill. When I glance around I notice that there doesn't seem to be a down hill but there is a small rise in ground level to my right, maybe a hill. I start to walk to my left. Pulling myself up I start walking through the trees, large straight trunks with very few low hanging branches surround me. I step over and around a maze of roots. An almost meditative trance falls over me. I marvel at the complex patterns all around me under the needles. A pattern of roots like veins and arteries flow from and to each tree. I only notice as it starts to move around my feet and ankles, a low fog is creeping over the ground around me. Soon I'm surrounded and my path through the forest is all but obscured. A faint noise reaches me. Almost an illusory thing, I have to strain my ears to hear anything... again there it is, a slight trickling noise, it must be a stream. I step towards it following my ears and walking slowly. Keeping my arms out and reaching, I hope I don't trip and the noise grows steadily louder. I'm certain now, a stream must be flowing nearby. A chill runs up my legs as moisture from the fog begins to condense on my feet. I'm growing colder but a warmth quickly begins to spread from my chest and the back of my neck down my spine and along my limbs fighting back the chill. I'm focussed on the noise of the stream. It consumes my attention and I'm stunned from my daze when I step suddenly in something wet. I must have stepped in the stream. Looking down around my feet I notice that it seems like all the roots around the edge of the stream are gorged, grown to almost twice their previous widths, they all group up and grow in lines towards the edges of the stream. No longer a maze of roots but lines of then grown straight into a miniature valley and down into the... It is immediately obvious that the stream is unusual. Its red, the trickling noise comes from its speed but it seems almost thick and the fog doesn't seem to come from its waters but instead is drifting up from the roots around its edge. I suddenly feel slightly nauseas, the fog is seeping like a sap from the flesh of the tree which is exposed at the edge of the stream, the bark is peeled off of the roots down by the "water". I take an involuntary step back. I need to drink but cant seem to find the strength of mind to consider this as a source of life.

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As I stare down at my ankles a wave of nausea hits. I bend over and scoop a hand down into the stream, taking my hand back from the cold fluid. It almost feels like I'm holding nothing. I lift it to my lips and like a cloud passing over my tongue and down my throat, I drink deeply. In a moment I'm lost to all thought but saying my thirst, suddenly every thought I have is tainted by desire. I stumble back clapping my hands to my head and close my eyes. I need to focus.