Szithar, late of the Skikudis tribe of scavengers mounted a low rise, surveying the bleak and blasted landscape through a polarized glass filter. The glass reflected back green light, letting Szithar see quite well despite the often blinding glare. The heat was intense, but the Skikudis didnt fear things like a bit of heat. Szithar could feel a trickle of sweat run down it's spine, buried deep underneath several layers of polymer sheathing, and scavenged steel and synthmetal plates. The sweat was fine, the suit would catch it, draw it through a filter in an hour or so it would be drinking water.
As the sun finally dropped, Szithar came across fresh animal tracks, some sort of camel, and another creature. Either lost, explorers, or criminals to be out this far from an outpost or bunker. Szithar hefted it's bam-stick and turned to follow the trail where it might lead. Traveling with company was safer, and if it turned out that the others were weak, well survival was survival. The heap of scrap metal and plastic moved towards a distant flicker of a fire.
(OOC - The Skikudis should be fairly well known, most tell that they used to be human, but were eaten and spit out as monsterous hunks of junk. Others tell that they are demons of destroyed technology, left broken to scout the wastelands for the remaining peaces of their greatness. Stories aside, the Skikudis are survivors, scavengers of technology, the pieces if not actual devices, and the stories of murder, rape and cannibalism are not quite justified. Either way, most people give the metal clad creatures a good deal of respect, and a wide bearth as well.)