Dylan (48)

This place used to be a factory. I'll rest here today and move north tomorrow. It was pure torture getting here from the south. There was a band of Marauders down there who ransacked my camp and I couldn't find any food or water. Hopefully I'll find some here. Just thinking about it makes me mad. Back then, I was resting in my camp when suddenly some crazy guy rushed in, grabbed my collar, and started interrogating me. I still can't forget his foul breath and flying spit! All the questions made me dizzy, and after a moment of hesitation, he turned around, grabbed my supplies, and left. To be honest, it could have been worse. The area's notorious for violence, robberies, and wild animals. As usual, I'm thinking of my old friend Dylan, and how we used to drive out and have barbecues together.