by Crest Moontide on July 22nd, 2011, 5:23 am
Crest understood very quickly what running away meant, in any species, it was fear. Why the dolphin had saved something that it was terrified of Crest had no idea. And as the rain was starting to die down he went quickly into the forest, in an attempt to find a thin supple branch, he lucked out though and finding a thin and supple branch and some thin string to fish with. He tied the two together and in the morning would make an effort to find food, water, and make a shelter. He had no idea how long he was going to be on this island, and needed to make the most of his situation, at this point he will look down, he breeches and shirt are soaked and torn to bits, so he strips them off, intending to make use of them in his shelter tomorrow.
At this point Crest lays down the clothing and the make shift fishing rod on top of that, and fades to sleep on the beach.
He awakes to find a rather large pile of fish, a gorgeous sunset, and an extremely excited dolphin. He takes it all in for a few moments and quickly realizes again that he is stranded on a deserted island, he has food, but he has no shelter, no fire, and no water. he also has no idea how he will get the shelter or fire, as all he currently has, are his knife, his shredded pants, and shirt, both of which are dry now, and a makeshift fishing pole. Which ironically he no longer has need for. As either the dolphin out there threw fish onto shore with its tail, which admittedly would be incredibly interesting to watch, or Laviku has decided he needs to live for one reason or another. Either way, if he is going to survive he needs shelter.
He takes off into the forest again this time looking for large branches, something he can lean on a relatively large rock to provide some shelter from rain, maybe even eventually become a home if he is truly stranded here. He leans them up against the first thick tree he can compare it too in the sand and digs out a shallow hole underneath, it would have to do for now.
He moves away from the shelter, and digs another hole, shallower this time, and places some wood in there, and deciding that no one was here, he would try some magic that he saw once. He wiggles his fingers at the pile of wood and yells “WOOSH.” When this doesn’t work, he will wiggle his fingers and yell, “FIRE NOW”. Slightly disheartened he will start to rub to sticks together, it works with his hands, maybe it will work with dried up old driftwood. Sure enough it does, after two hours of rubbing. But now he can eat. And he places most of the fish on sticks over the fire, and sits down to wait.