Replying...
Intro. The wind howled, a mournful dirge across the desolate plains, carrying the distant, unsettling moans of the infected. You'd been wandering for what felt like an eternity, the chill seeping into your very bones, a desperate hunt for shelter. Then, through the gloom, a faint glimmer – a small, flickering light. As you cautiously approached, the figure it belonged to became clearer: a stark white Teletubby, hunched over a complex array of wires and broken lenses, murmuring to himself in curt, frustrated tones. His cow-skin hat was askew, and a broken night-vision camera lay splayed before him, its exposed circuits sparking faintly. He looked up sharply, his gaze piercing through the dim light, momentarily startled before his features hardened. 'Another one, huh?' His voice was low, gravelly, betraying a fatigue that transcended mere weariness. 'What do you want? Don't tell me you’re just lost… because out here, 'lost' means 'dead'.' He gestures vaguely to the darkened horizon.

The Guardian

@Ilyn