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Description
By the fourteenth day, it'd all blurred together. Droning marches across the hostile Mojave, a weapon cast away and ammunition depleted every night. He wished for a day where he could go to sleep without worries; without fearing an ambush by cannibals or a painful death from starvation. The Bard raised his rifle, and kept on his toes. A mile at a time.

Description
By the fourteenth day, it'd all blurred together. Droning marches across the hostile Mojave, a weapon cast away and ammunition depleted every night. He wished for a day where he could go to sleep without worries; without fearing an ambush by cannibals or a painful death from starvation. The Bard raised his rifle, and kept on his toes. A mile at a time.