The woods opened up to a cluster of buildings. The path was dry, packed hard as stone. Dust kicked up as the group walked, their sandals brown with grime. Buildings were falling down, in disrepair, panels hanging off the walls, slats off the roofs. In some places fabric was used as makeshift windows, blocking out the worst of the dirt and sea air. The ambient background of water splashing against the shore drowned out the majority of farm animal noises, as thin and sick as they were. The farmland sitting behind the houses was pitiful, rows upon rows of wilted and dry plants. Along with the civilians, stray dogs and cats prowled around, scrounging for food where they could find it. A small child chased one dog with a fish in its mouth down the path, dodging a couple of adults and disappearing between two houses.