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The skies were overcast, threatening rain most of the night. By the time dawn hit a downpour was soaking the entire city and countryside. The hordes of undead didn't care, their groans and moans a low rumble as they shuffled back and forth in response to the thunderous cacophony raindrops made on tin roofs. As the storm passed overhead, the worst of the rain slowly crept from one area of the slums to another, though as the winds died down the storm all but stalled out above the remains of the once proud city. All the areas of Harran were caught in the deluge, though the slums were taking the worst beating. Some of the deep gullies started to flood, flushing the biters and virals out of them and into the streets, making them even more crowded than normal. With the influx of virals from incidents caused by Rais' men, it was far more dangerous than normal to be in the streets. Far from the Tower, but still in the slums, not far from what remained of Rais' skyscraper, a lone figure hunched its shoulders against the rain, huddled down with its back to the water as the water splashed off the building and hit the hood, baseball cap, and patchwork leather duster of the man hunkered down miserably. He'd come back to himself not long before, near the lowest levels of the basement, and had scaled his way up and out of the towering building. Hopping a fence and dragging himself up to the lower rooftop of the building closest to the massive former HQ for Rais and his men, the Hunter wasn't sure how long it'd been since the Mother had forced that phial of liquid down his throat. But he was all too aware of what had happened as he'd climbed out of the sewers just as the sun went down. How many sunsets since then? He'd lost count, let himself operate on instinct during daylight too - it lessened the pain - but the rain... there was something about it that dragged the small scrap of humanity left in his brain to the forefront. He hated it.