The lack of water was growing painful. They ached all over, from their head to their joints. Earlier, despite Laurence's warnings, Gregory and Dale were desperate enough to taste the water. Thick and salty. Undrinkable. Just like tears.
There'd been hope before. Aldor shifted wondering how a world this alien could still be so deadly, so untouchable. He needed to do something: move, and get organized—this was killing him. His whole body wracked with fatigue, but his eyes weren't able to close. A low groan escaped him as he sat up. It was like he was a marionette—stiff and with his strings desperately tangled.
The water sparkled like melted silver through the branches of the tree. He stopped by Dale, stared sadly into the water; his mind elsewhere.
Aldor crossed his legs and leaned on his
