Night looks at the young girl with amazement. He wonders how she can have that much energy after such a rough storm. He lifts a brow and shakes his head once more. He lets her run off as he gets to the dirty work. He finds some materials, fairly dry, for starting a fire. After getting the fire roaring and big enough to last, the night begins to creep in just like the rolling storms had fallen out of sight. He takes most of his clothes off and sets them along a line to dry in the night air. His manly muscles still glistened from the wet clothes, the fire’s light reflecting off of his skin. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone but himself, he was man and he felt good.

((LMAO, sorry!! Can’t keep a straight face with that one!!))

He gathered some large leaves and made a bed for the both of them. He knew she might not be comfortable with it but he dare not stray too far to gather more supplies. It would have to wait until morning when the sun rose so that he could complete all that was to do on his list. He sadly felt that they would be here for a very long time. It was rare that anyone came to this island and ever rarer that they get close enough to rescue anyone. They were lost. Forever.

Night laid himself down upon the leafy bed, taking up much of the room with his broad chest and length. He tried to stay close to the edge so that Liz wouldn’t feel uncomfortable but alas, he was a man of great size. He stretched his arms above his head and scanned the night skies for star maps. If he couldn’t get off this damned island he would very well know what day and time is was. He recalled the maps upon his ship, where they had plotted to go and the heading they had. He guessed that because of this islands mystery, that things could change… much like the Bermuda triangle.