Their wounds are caulked with salt. A blindfold protects their eyes against the toxic spores hanging in the air. They step, making no sound except for the short, calculated puffs of their filtered breathing technique.
The Pathfinder survives. Their body is but a vessel for their soul, their mind is simply the device they must control to keep moving on. To others they seem to be acting on instinct, but pathfinding is anything but; only a complete mastery of flesh and spirit can ensure the survival of the soul.
Pathfinding is the art of staying alive and in complete control of one's body and mind. Pain and fear are the tools of the lost. When travelling the shifting lands, lost is as good as dead...
The Pathfinder is calm and determined, not by nature, but by necessity. A good Pathfinder is constantly aware of all threats and opportunities, surviving the worse through sheer spite.