The Island of Destiny
"Just trust me," you tell Sabrina. She hesitates, then nods.
"Okay," she says, and proceeds to help you with the wood. As you're stacking the wood, you can't help wondering what you did to deserve all this. Stuck in the middle of nowhere, right under a thunderstorm, no less, and you don't even have someone familiar to talk to. What a mess.
Soon enough, you've built a passable shelter, and you and Sabrina huddle under it to escape the rain. The storm has increased to monumental proportions by now, and the noise is deafening.
It's going to be a long night, you say to yourself. And how right you are. For hours the rain pours and the thunder roars. Your shelter doesn't do you much good -- you're soaked by the end of the storm anyway, not to mention freezing. The moon rises and falls (not that you can see it through the clouds), and you see the sun come up at last. You groggily step out of the shelter and discover that the rain has decreased to a slight trickle now. Your arm feels a twinge of pain. Gasping, you hold your arm up and realize it has been completely eaten up by mosquitoes. It itches horribly, but you can't do anything about it right now. As tired as you are, there's no time to sit idly by. You have work to do.
Looking over at Sabrina, you can tell that she's just as miserable as you are.
"Are you okay?" you ask her. She shivers.
"I -- I d-don't kn-know." You're worried. She may have hypothermia, but you're not sure. Decisions, decisions.
"Okay," she says, and proceeds to help you with the wood. As you're stacking the wood, you can't help wondering what you did to deserve all this. Stuck in the middle of nowhere, right under a thunderstorm, no less, and you don't even have someone familiar to talk to. What a mess.
Soon enough, you've built a passable shelter, and you and Sabrina huddle under it to escape the rain. The storm has increased to monumental proportions by now, and the noise is deafening.
It's going to be a long night, you say to yourself. And how right you are. For hours the rain pours and the thunder roars. Your shelter doesn't do you much good -- you're soaked by the end of the storm anyway, not to mention freezing. The moon rises and falls (not that you can see it through the clouds), and you see the sun come up at last. You groggily step out of the shelter and discover that the rain has decreased to a slight trickle now. Your arm feels a twinge of pain. Gasping, you hold your arm up and realize it has been completely eaten up by mosquitoes. It itches horribly, but you can't do anything about it right now. As tired as you are, there's no time to sit idly by. You have work to do.
Looking over at Sabrina, you can tell that she's just as miserable as you are.
"Are you okay?" you ask her. She shivers.
"I -- I d-don't kn-know." You're worried. She may have hypothermia, but you're not sure. Decisions, decisions.