His feet hurt. He continued walking. His feet were sweaty and the broken blisters pained him with each step.
He did the best to ignore the pain and focus on reaching help.
He wanted to run, but that would tire him out and slow him down, better to keep a steady pace.
The trail wound on, the foliage unchanging. The only indication that he was making any progress was his ragged breathing.
He wiped his brow without slowing. He summoned up what saliva he could, thick and gummy, and swallowed it. He let out a loud exhale and struggled on.