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Description
How many faces had the Bard assumed in the past few months? Every couple of weeks he'd adopted a new suit of clothing and changed his appearance, wandering around the wastes like the outcast that he was. It made that growing derangement in his skull ponder as to whether or not all the other wanderers he encountered were the same.
What if there were even fewer people in the Mojave than he'd previously thought? All those different faces he saw travelling in the distance being the same handful of people, they too clad in different adornments every time? What if hope was even more absent than ever before?
God, he hated thinking. He was such a bother to deal with.

Description
How many faces had the Bard assumed in the past few months? Every couple of weeks he'd adopted a new suit of clothing and changed his appearance, wandering around the wastes like the outcast that he was. It made that growing derangement in his skull ponder as to whether or not all the other wanderers he encountered were the same.
What if there were even fewer people in the Mojave than he'd previously thought? All those different faces he saw travelling in the distance being the same handful of people, they too clad in different adornments every time? What if hope was even more absent than ever before?
God, he hated thinking. He was such a bother to deal with.