[attr="class","sinbody2"]Jaron had never felt such a compelling urge to stay inside - not even when he'd been back on Earth and his fans found out where he lived. Then, he'd only be surrounded, hugged, kissed, and maybe trampled to death. Not so bad. Here, he felt like he might combust just standing out in the sun, or drown in his own sweat anywhere else. He was miserably hot, to the point of wanting nothing to even think about touching his skin. So he sat in the middle of his little cabin, sans clothes, waiting for night to come and bring with it some sort of reprieve.

Except he'd completely forgotten to refill his makeshift pail last night, and by the time he realized his mistake Sol was already cresting the horizon. The darkness didn't last nearly as long as it used to, he'd swear it. So with a groan of dissatisfaction, he pulled on some clothes (gross), gathered up the container, and headed out. It would take him about an hour to get to the river, during which time he could ponder all the ways he'd rather die than by heat exhaustion, wicked sunburn, or both.

At least Sir Meowington wasn't here yet - the poor little dude would hate this weather. He complained when Jaron even kept the house too hot. No one had warned him that a designer cat also meant one that required more creature comforts than its human. Mind drifting, Jaron filled the journey to water with memories of the only companion he'd actually formed a connection with.

Once he reached the river's edge, the man had a hard time not panicking. The water was low - really low. Lower than it was last week, which was lower than the week before. Which meant the sun wasn't just burning the inhabitants and sending the forest's beasts scurrying - it was drying up their water supply. Jaron felt the urge to hoard as much as he could, but knew that was both selfish and unfeasible. He only had the one pail, he couldn't carry that much. Sighing miserably, he went down the muddy bank and collected what he could.

He didn't know what caused him to look around before heading back home, but he did - and a little ways away, he thought he saw someone laying in the grass. Brow furrowing, he left his pail on the bank and carefully approached the... woman, he determined. He didn't want to frighten her, but he also wanted to warn her she probably shouldn't stay out too long... And make sure she wasn't dead. If she was, he'd be hightailing it back to his cabin and staying there for the foreseeable future. He liked living.

"Uh.. hey?" he called slightly ahead of himself, steps hesitant. When she moved, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh good, you're not dead," he remarked, not realizing how strange that probably sounded. He was good at two things, singing and looking good, and very little else. "I, uhm, just wanted to make sure you were okay. And let you know it's been heating up, in case, you know, you just got here." A hand went to the back of his neck, scratching the short hair there. "I've seen some really bad sunburns lately. It doesn't take much." His own skin was testament to that - he was deeply tanned, thanks to his heritage, but it had all started as burn on top of burn. He was definitely getting cancer when he was older.