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When crawling out of the log at daybreak, Marcus could hear the soft trickle of water still. He initially thought it was his imagination, but it was coming from a distinct direction. He was curious and since the sun wasn't high enough to start walking again, he decided to look for the source. 'I figure it shouldn't be too difficult to find it. Maybe it's a natural spring, that'd be nicer than puddle water or berry juice.'

Marcus regretted thinking such a simple thing would be easy to find, as he spent half an hour circling around the log and trees for it.

'Well no point in staying around if I can't find it.' He admitted defeat. The mountain had come back into view, meaning he needed to move soon. The berry bushes were appearing less frequently and his initial supply was already a third of the way gone from the original. He needed to find some kind form of civilization soon, otherwise he'd be stranded with no real food or water in a dense forest that did no favors for him.

'Hopefully that altar or monument was made by people that are near. I can't imagine why'd they make such a thing in the middle of nowhere unless it held enough significance to build residence around.'

It was just his luck that when he went back to the fallen log, not thinking about the water, his legs suddenly plunged through the dirt and were shocked by the cold water he was knee deep inside.

Turns out the overturned log he slept in had originally drowned from a water basin forming right under its roots. At any point during the night it could've collapsed, but it decided to wait until he was leaving to give out.

Marcus could only sigh at the annoyance and use the opportunity given. He started pulling away the thin ceiling of dirt and roots to open up the little pool. It was big enough for him to sit in and stretch out his legs.

He did just that, and began washing away the months of dried blood, grime, and dirt. It was the coldest and probably least effective bath he'd ever had, but nonetheless it was refreshing. The semi clear water soon turned into a swirling mess of black and brown. The surface became a black mirror when he sat still, giving him the first real look at his face. He could only get glimpses from the condensation puddles in the mountain, but now he was getting the full view.

The surprising part wasn't that the face was completely different from his old one, but it was so much younger than he thought. He touched at the more angular looking chin and felt the bristles of hair stemming from it, feeling like the first beard this body had ever attempted growing. The eyes were less sunken into his brow, and the mess of hair on top of his head was closer to black than the light brown and gray he was used to. The nose had seemed to shrink as well, no longer filled with the annoying nose hair he had gotten to plucking.

Marcus didn't think this new body was going to be something like a variation to his original, but he was surprised that he looked to be in his twenties, so much younger than he expected. It was a more drastic change than what he was initially thinking, but it did explain why he wasn't aching and wheezing every time he started running for his life.

'I know the guy in the mirror was saying he had a plan with where he was sending my soul, but where exactly did this body come from? Why was it sitting in a hellhole away from any people? God I wish I could find some answers for this backwards planet.'

Once Marcus's thoughts turned to useless grumbling, he knew it was time to get out and start moving. He climbed out of the hole and grabbed the rest of his stuff. He kept walking until the sun had passed a few hours after noon. He took another break, eating enough berries to the point that only about three handfuls remained.

'I'll have to ration these to last till tonight; starting tomorrow, it's gonna be searching and walking at the same time.'

When looking back at the mountain, it had gotten somewhat smaller. It still loomed over him with the trauma it caused, but that didn't matter as much now. Finding people was the real goal.

Marcus's searching for food while walking turned out to be a blessing in disguise. The constant scanning of the forest resulted in spotting the markings of human activity.

At the edge of a little stream, Marcus found a footprint in the clay. Not just a foot, but the outline of the boot; meaning whoever was wearing it belonged to a group intelligent enough to make shoes and clever enough to think of traction engraved to the bottoms.

'What I wouldn't give to have real shoes again.' Marcus thought while rubbing the arches of his feet. The skulker socks were worn through completely and he was using just the ragged pieces that remained.

Just as the sky was about to turn red, Marcus found another clue. A broken piece of metal glinting in the side of a tree. It was as big as his finger nail, most likely broken off an arrowhead or some sort of projectile, making him even more excited to think he was closing in on another human being.

When he turned around to reference the mountain one last time before finding a place to sleep, Marcus was startled to see a man standing not even ten feet away.