she'd become accustomed to a certain degree of normality within her own little universe. sure , it was a life so unlike the one she’d lived before , but it had it’s own routines. hunting , hiding , sleeping , cleaning her meat , mapping the island. it was a basic combination of few simple tasks. what wasn’t part of that routine was the plane that came crashing down days ago , landing somewhere among the sandy beaches and the water. she’d immediately gone into hiding , because a crash meant possible survivors , and survivors were a dangerous variable , one that could throw everything in any one direction , meaning the danger of her being found , and of angering the others , the ones that stayed hidden upon the island. but her supplies had run low and so danielle made a trip along well known paths into the forest , searching mostly for boar , unwilling to take down anything bigger , anything that would draw too much attention. she’s walking silently along her usual route , gun held at her side , feet stepping only in predetermined locations , picking the quietest spots to distribute her weight. but suddenly there’s a voice , a flash of blonde hair a few feet up , and danielle stops dead , rifle lifted and aiming at the girl’s brightly colored tee shirt. the girl looks in her direction , she’d been heard. she was trapped in a discussion she didn’t want , with a possibly dangerous stranger. ʺ tell me your name. ʺ she answers , voice soft , sliding through the forest seemingly unobstructed by the trees.
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