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Post by BLAYCE WHITE on Nov 14, 2011 13:20:46 GMT -5
Blayce was sure he’d been unconscious. At least he thought he must have been, because waking up felt a lot more like climbing out of mud than…well, waking up. The only problem was that he couldn’t remember why he had been unconscious. For a second he just laid on his back in the sand, trying to figure out why his right leg hurt so badly. And why everything around him looked so black…why it smelled so much like death…
He remembered the boat sinking all at once, in a sort of panic-filled blur. Blayce remembered reading, and then there had been turbulence and people starting to panic. He remembered getting scared and not knowing what was going on. The last thing he remembered was the horrible, shrieking sort of noise the ship had made…and...yes, that must have been when he had passed out.
The memory made Blayce roll onto his stomach in a panic. Or he tried to roll, anyway. He made it about halfway before the pain in his leg became too much and he had to go onto his back again. After carefully maneuvering himself into a sitting position, Blayce took stock of himself. Something had split his shin open from below his knee to about halfway down, and it was leaking blood into the ocean, turning the nearest foam crimson. Each time a wave brushed his leg, stabbing pain shot out from the cut, taking Blayce's breath. It wasn’t the only injury, he finally noticed, but it was easily the worst. As soon as he had seen the wound, Blayce began to scramble backwards, making a weird, whimpering noise he didn’t think he had every made before. His injured leg dragged behind him until he made it into the soft powder of the white sand. Sand in the cut really wasn’t much better, but by the time he had gotten there, Blayce had a whole new problem.
Most of his clothes had been destroyed. The right side of his black jeans had been ripped off, his white shirt was soaked and he was missing both shoes. Blayce couldn't help but make a face once he realized that clothes didn't matter at the time. He was alive and that's what counted. He looked around, the pain coming from his leg hurting him once more. There was nobody around. The man cursed under his breath, but he could have shouted those words. After all, nobody was around, or at least that's what he thought.
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Post by CATALINA RAINE on Nov 14, 2011 17:39:14 GMT -5
Silence.
The sound of nature was the only thing that could be heard at that moment. A young woman stood poised behind a tree as she waited, watching. A hand made bow was in the woman's hand and in one fluid motion, she had pulled an arrow out of the animal skin bag she had slung over her bag and strung it with expert fingers. Keeping the bow loose still, a soft exhale of air slipped past her pink lips before slowly tilted her body so she could see around the tree. Good. The small hare was still nibbling away at the greenery near it's feet.
While a bow and arrow normally wouldn't be necessary to catch a simple rabbit, Cat was feeling lazy today and a bow was what she was best at, that and a knife. But a knife probably wouldn't be a good idea with a rabbit. Finally taking one last, soundless breath, Cat pulled her bow tight and aimed at the chest of the rabbit, waiting to release it until the rabbit looked up.
Suddenly, an unexpected whimpering sound was heard on the breeze and it got the attention of both her and the rabbit. While she froze, listening to see if any other noises would follow, the rabbit took off before scurrying down it's hole. When Cat finally remembered the rabbit, her gaze shifted back to where it had been only to see that it had disappeared. Cursing under her breath, Catalina slung the bow over her shoulder and put the arrow back in her bag.
Rising to her feet, the barefoot woman made her way through the few trees that seperated the beach from the thick undergrowth of the inner island. She wasn't happy about losing her kill and what ever had scared away her meal was going to pay. Reaching to her hand made belt, she grabbed the well crafted knife and pulled it out of it's sheath as she stalked across the sand, her movements graceful yet menacing.
A man was laying on the beach and he looked terrible. Confusion and immediate suspicion crossed Catalina's face as she paused for a moment before filling the gap between them. Coming to stand in front of the man, her light hazel eyes were narrowed a bit as she looked down at him, looking him over quickly before speaking.
"Who are you and why are you here." she demanded, thrusting her knife in his direction a bit in frustration that she would be hunting longer than she originally intended. |
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Post by BLAYCE WHITE on Nov 15, 2011 7:28:16 GMT -5
Blayce checked his reflection on the water, deathly pale, a ghost in the middle of the day. With death hovering beside him, he continued to check on himself who had just been in mortal peril. All he knew was that he had to get out of this place. He had to get himself healed. Each time he checked he became a little paler at the sight of the blood and each time this happened he tried to get up but failed miserably. Blayce couldn't believe that he was back in this current state. It had almost happened before, how could it happen again? Every time he had tried to get away and escape from the thieves that he had once belonged to, he failed miserably. Several years ago, they had shot him in the leg. Now, the ship had sunk and he was once again injured on the same spot. Perhaps the universe was trying to tell him something.
He was a horrible person. He couldn't do a thing. Each time it had been him to react first when it should have been others. Why was he such a horrible man? But that didn't excuse his actions this night. His horrific reactions to something he should have been alert to. It was enough to make him feel like breaking down. He just wanted to get to a corner and sit there, lost in a world of thoughts and disbelief, as death extended his arms to claim his prize. How could he do this task... How was it possible? He doubled over for a moment grasping his head with a cry of pain. These thoughts, the emotions... The stress, it was all getting to him.
He had to get up. If he didn't... He cast a surreptitious glance at the jungle in front of him. He could definitely hear movement. Again, he turned even paler and the image of death lingered ever closer in his mind. With an almighty pull he ripped off his shirt, or rather what was left of it. Resting once again for only a moment on the cold sand he breathed heavily for what felt like the first time since he had began his journey to freedom. He looked at his leg. Tying up the part of his shirt that he had ripped off around his wound, he applied pressure on it and sighed.
Blayce seemed to be in a near death state, thus the thought in his mind that death was lingering somewhere nearby ready to claim one young, innocent soul from this Earthly existence. He took another few deep breaths as he pushed himself up, though he screamed in pain and fell once again on the sand. His head shot up as he saw a shadow in front of him. The end. He would die here.
"Who are you and why are you here."
Blayce blinked twice, a female voice reaching his ears. So, what now? Death was female? Blinking again, he looked at the woman in front of him. Perhaps she was an angel. The first thing that reached his mind was that she was beautiful. Then, the next thing was the bow that she seemed to be holding and a bag on her back. Beautiful and dangerous, exactly his type. Blayce tried to look optimistically on the situation, the fact that this woman didn't seem familiar at all not concerning him. "I'm Blayce, Blayce White. I was on a ship, it sunk and now I'm here." he said, looking at her. Then, he looked at his wounded leg. "What about you? Where you on that cruise as well?" he asked. Highly unlikely, the woman didn't ring a bell at all.
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Post by CATALINA RAINE on Nov 15, 2011 23:09:15 GMT -5
At first, anger and irritation had been the feelings that had rushed through Catalina when she had seen the man sitting in the sand who had scared away her dinner. But as she came to stand in front of him, her light green eyes looked down at him as she examined him quickly. After a moment, she felt sympathy pass through her as she saw how bad his condition was. He must be one of the survivors from the shipwreck that had been rumored to have happened not far from here. She had heard some of the other Islanders talking about it and she remembered that they weren't suppose to have any contact with the alien humans that seemed to be washing up onshore occasionally. But what was she suppose to do? Leave him on his own to slowly die? While her outlook on life was that the strongest survived and the weaker were picked off but she couldn't let him die, not like this when she could do something to help him.
When he spoke, he confirmed her thoughts of the fact that he was on of the people from the ship. When he asked her if she was from the ship as well she almost laughed out loud, did she honestly look like she had just survived a ship wreck? Certainly not. But she held in her amusement and simply shook her head before lowering herself to the sand so she was sitting beside his wounded leg. Blood was soaking through the shirt he had pressed to it and she knew that he needed to get it bandaged and cleaned or he wouldn't stand a chance.
"No. I'm Catalina Raine. I live on this island." she replied, her voice carrying a bit of a British accent to it that she had held on to from her birth parents who were British. As she looked at his leg for a moment, she finally reached down and moved the shirt from the wound so she could get a look at it. It was deep but not deep enough that it would need stitches which was good. As long as it didn't need stitches then she could help him. If stitches were needed then he would be on his own because the only person that could fix something that serious was the medicine man back at her village and the Islanders probably wouldn't take to kindly to healing a stranger that had washed up on their shores.
"Hold still." she demanded, her voice stern as she took his shirt and tore long strips out of. When the shirt was torn, she reached around to the bag that was slung over her shoulder and pulled out a handmade water bottle before pouring some of the clean water on the strips and rinsing the blood off so they were clean. Wringing them out, she laid them on her upper thigh before taking the clean water and dumping a fair amount of it on his wound. It would probably sting pretty badly but she had to get the sand and salt water out of it to keep it from getting infected. When it was clean, she took one strip at a time and wrapped them tightly around his leg before tying them off so that the pressure would stop the bleeding.
The mixture of the pressure from the bandage and the cold water, the bleeding had completely stopped by the time she was finished wrapping the last strip around his wound. When she was finished, she examined her work with expert eyes before letting her gaze raise to look at him. His eyes were a bright blue color that made her think of the ocean she so loved.
"There. That should help it heal." she spoke, pulling her gaze away from his beautiful eyes and glancing away for a moment before looking back at him, waiting for him to speak. |
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