Lost

It's been nearly a week on the island, and the reality of your situation is finally starting to settle in. No one seems to be coming for you; no one even seems to be looking. Still, it's not entirely bad. Jack seems comfortable enough playing leader and going off on his adventures. Sawyer's little general store of goodies keeps him occupied enough. And Locke...well, God only knows what he's up to.

You're content enough sitting in the background for the moment, letting the rest of them jockey for position. And since your group managed to find guns, you figure it's best to stay out of the line of fire. Still, you keep busy enough, spending your days exploring the island, bit by bit, making the most of what might otherwise be a really shitty situation. At least your years in the scouts have paid off.

Now, it's just an hour or so after sunrise, and you're trying to figure out how to spend your day. You grab your pack and an empty water bottle, deciding that a trek down to the stream is a good place to start.

A rustle behind you captures your attention.

"Hey..."

You stand up to greet this visitor.