Zoro was aware of his predisposition to loose his way, despite the popular notion among the rest of the crew that he was a bit slow in the head. The fact hardly bothered him, because he had faith he would always find his way eventually, or that someone would come find him. What truly bothered Zoro, though he could barely admit this truth to even himself, was loosing Luffy. There were rumors, hints about what was happening while he was stranded alone and away from his captain, but they did very little to ease the persistent pull in his ribcage, the pull to start wandering in any direction that might reunite him with Luffy.
"Damn." For the first time in a long while, minor annoyances like the pebbles under Zoro's back, that leaf tickling his ear, an itch under his boot, were preventing him from sleep. If he had bothered to think a few moments more, he might have realized it was actually the invisible hook in his chest that was keeping him up. Instead of thinking, Zoro just moved, rising to his feet and taking firm strides in whatever direction he was facing. If it turned out to be wrong, well, he would turn and go a different way, as many times as it took to get close enough for Luffy to find him.