Twig's was quite surprised to find Mel licking the tears off her face. Normally she objected to being licked but it was strangely comforting. She pressed herself closer to Mel, finding comfort in her warmth and fur. Her sobbing eased but the tears still trickled out.

Faye felt for Twig's when she started crying, and thought about reaching out herself, but she was nonetheless grateful when Mel beat her to it. She glanced briefly at Ainsley and the Baxters, those most directly affected by the crash, but she was just going to have to hope that they weren't as angry as Xandria. She really didn't want the whole group dynamic collapsing on only their first night.

Turning directly to Xandria, she pointed out, "It's too early to make any accusations, hon. We don't have any information. Let's just... calm down, at least long enough to get some answers, huh?"

“Javier, this trip has been going splendidly! So little time at sea and you’ve already exceeded my expectations. I must commend the entire crew.” Junior stepped outside of his cabin on the Titan IC and walked down the hall towards the classiest dining room. He liked to hear the pianist play the grand there as he ate.

“Thank you, Mr. Gladstone. And the activities we have planned are sure to be... exciting.”

“That’s great.” Junior looked around and then spoke in a hushed voice. “Now you’re sure that everything will be ready for tomorrow? Everything has got to be perfect.”

“Against my better judgement, sir, yes. I’ve made arrangements for exactly the time you’ve requested. Although, if you ask me, you might want to get a firm acceptance from the parties involved first. If they’re unwilling to go through this little experience, it would reflect very poorly upon you.”

“Oh come, come, Javier. Who wouldn’t love a little surprise like this? Just leave everything to me. When the time is right, I’ll let the cat out of the bag. In the meantime, continue the preparations. And when the ‘event’ occurs, just make sure my every need is met.”

“Who would I be if I neglected the son of the vessel’s financiers? I’ll make sure you’re very well cared for through the whole thing. And I’ll also make sure to catch you when you fall.”

Gladstone laughed and said in a more confident tone, “I’ll float through this whole thing. You just wait and see.”

"Surely some of you must have read the information packet?" Molly looked around at the ring of hostile faces and gulped. "Oh, dear! I'm guessing you didn't? Well, it's like this. They don't actually wreck the ship--that would be far too expensive. There's some sort of lever or other mechanical gizmo that drops the adventure group into the bay. They throw out some jetsam to make it look realistic. Then the rest of the passengers just continue on with the cruise."

Now that she thought about it, the whole thing had seemed rougher and less polished than previous occasions. No one had ever been hurt before. Was it possible that there had been some mistake--or even sabotage? Molly didn't want to dwell on that possibility, so she hurried on.

"After we're dropped in the bay, it's a leisurely swim to the shore, where we recline upon the sandy beach and eat tropical fruit until the Rescue Crew arrives. It isn't scheduled to be the Pirate Rescue Crew, so that will be the end of the adventure."

A shudder ran up her spine as she recollected the last trip. Razor-thin tempers; everyone on edge; castaway guests at each others' throats constantly; six weeks hiding out in the jungle, dodging irate passengers as best she could. Never again! she had vowed.

"Last time there were some--some technical issues, and it took longer to be rescued. But, of course, everything will be all right this time. They promised to make sure it never happened again."

She did her best to smile, even though nobody seemed cheered by her explanation.

Pittersticks really didn't care how they had ended up on the island. He was confident he would survive. He had only come on the cruise to be mischievous and watch the drama unfold anyway. Although this drama was not of his own creating, he was enjoying it and was eager to escalate the things for the utmost entertainment for himself. In his deeper-than-normal-for-a-squirrel voice he said, "Something must have gone dreadful wrong this time. While I can well believe that these imbeciles," he gestured at the group, "did not read the information packet, this certainly does not apply to me. I didn't read the packet because I didn't get the packet. I was not a guest on the boat. I was in a cabin that was supposed to be empty." He glared at Molly with his red eyes, not because he was actually mad at her but because the effect was perfect for creating drama.

Dan was just about at his wits' end. Not only had Molly confirmed that the ship had been intentionally wrecked, but now a talking squirrel had the nerve to call them all imbeciles for not reading the packet - a talking squirrel who basically admitted to being a stowaway at the same time.

He pushed down the urge to give Molly and Pittersticks a piece of his mind. He knew Angie had read the brochure in its entirety; it was just the way she was. Right now he had to keep in mind that his family needed him, and at the same time he wanted to present a good example to Grace.

He walked over to Molly, trying to look as nonthreatening as he could. When the dust settled from all this she'd have enough to handle without him yelling at her. He did glare at Pittersticks on the way by, but said nothing.

"Molly," he began, "my brother does extreme sports so I have some idea of the appeal, the adrenaline rush, the excitement. But to expose people to this, many of whom haven't even thought of such a thing and would have no training, seems over the top."

He gestured to his wife. "No, she's not enjoying the adventure. My daughter is dealing with seeing her mother this way. And if, by some stroke of foolishness we'd brought our toddler along, I'm certain she wouldn't be with us right now.

"Maybe it's in the brochure. But if all these imbeciles" - he made a point of glaring at Pittersticks again - "missed it, I suggest that the brochure needs to be rewritten, so that it's perfectly clear next time.

"All that aside, I'm not here to yell or make trouble. I just want to get home. I hope that the cruise line has made arrangements for our rescue even if things don't go quite as planned?"

After a while, Ithamar Waters came out of the panic-induced daze that had been caused by the loss of his precious medicine bag. He peered at all the people gathered there. To his horror, he heard a squirrel--the squirrel--shouting and stamping his feet. No one seemed to heed its outrageous words. No one said, "Look, a talking squirrel!" Perhaps only he could see and hear the wretched creature--it must be a figment of his imagination. Well, maybe it was better for one to acknowledge the problem if one was hallucinating.

As if on a radio being tuned, he heard the conversatioin grow clearer.

"What's this? What's this?--a shipwreck? Plots of mayhem and destruction!" Now he felt himself the efficient, talented detective once more. "Why, it must be the fault of that weaselly Gladstone--he owns shares in this company. We'll ask him to give an explanation!" He looked about expectantly. "By the bye, where is he anyway?"

Molly eyed the newly energized Waters blankly. Then she turned back to the others.

"I'm very sorry that some of you have been hurt. That has never happened before, at least not on my run. But I can see that we should call this off right away. I'll go make contact with headquarters; they should be here to pick us up in a couple of hours."

Suiting her action to her words, the bright-haired stewardess ran up the beach, and disappeared into the edge of the jungle. When she came rushing back a short time later, she wore a frightened air.

"It's not there! Has someone taken it away for a joke? Because it's not a very funny one. Either the transmitter has been--misplaced--or else," she took a deep breath, "we're on the wrong island!"

Well, things had just gone from bad to worse. Faye couldn't help but sound frustrated as she asked, "So, you didn't do a practice run for this 'adventure'? Get familiar with the island?"

Mr. Waters's comment did make her think, though. Surely Mr. Gladstone would have his own means of ending the adventure early - they wouldn't put him in any real danger. If nothing else, if there had been any miscommunications, the company would surely put their full effort into finding him. With these thoughts in mind, she answered Waters's question: "Mr. Gladstone went to get water. It's about a ten minute walk from here, so he should probably be back soon." At least, she hoped he would.

Faye kept her eye on Xandria. The original news was bad enough - this was likely to cause a riot. Whatever Pittersticks might say, she'd much rather be living Swiss Family Robinson than Lord of the Flies.

Xandria nearly had smoke boiling out of her ears. How dare. How DARE they. she had spent so much time picking one thing, ONE thing to try re-integrating with people, done everything she could to ensure she would have adequate privacy but enough to force her to be out and social, to be safe, with experienced crew, and this is what she ended up with. She was about ready to give--both verbally and perhaps a little violently--a piece of her mind when Maeve spoke up.

"Enough!" she said, extending a hand toward the more upset members of the party while walking over toward Molly. She placed herself before Molly, glancing around and noticing that she was almost exactly in the center of the group, and just above her, Pittersticks. Her eyes narrowed at the furry tailed rodent, before settling on Molly.

"You all can speculate later. Right now, there is less than an hour of daylight remaining. Once that sun dips below the horizon, the light will be gone, and there will be no heat source, which means we need to get some serious work done, and now. Enough wood needs to be gathered to build a stack as high as Grace, higher, if possible. A shelter must be built, and, as someone mentioned earlier, the tide is only just now beginning to come in, so the shelter should be built behind the tree line, and the wood stacked behind it. Some need to forage for tarping and other usables that have washed ashore, others need to collect driftwood, and still others need to find fallen palm fronds, and collect them for shelter building," Maeve announced curtly. "And Molly--there should be a box of emergency supplies, including a machete and medical equipment. Where is it?"

“Looking for this?” Junior appeared just behind the rest of the group, holding a large handled emergency kit in one hand, and a large, handled pot of water in the other. He dropped the heavy box. “I found it close by. Luckily for us, I also found this pot.” His biceps bulged as he lifted it and walked into the center of the group. “‘Miss Twig’s, I believe you wanted this.” He looked around at everyone, who were mysteriously silent. “Oh, I see you made a grill over the fire. Looks like something my daddy and I would’ve used on one of our several trips to the Adirondacks. I’ll just hang this over here so that it can get warm.” After doing so, he turned and surveyed the group. They seemed to be agitated by his presence. For almost the first time in his life, he wasn’t enjoying being the center of attention. “I’m sorry, did I interrupt something? I just came in as you were talking about building a shelter and gathering tarp. I think I saw some back there next to a deck umbrella... I could go get it if you want...”

"Yes, I think that would be appropriate," Maeve said sweetly, walking over and inspecting the box. "We'll all have a chat after the sun has set--but we really should get a shelter taken care of, first."

She struggled with the lid slightly, then popped it open, picking up the machete and inspecting the contents.

"Dan, Angie, there's antibiotics in here. Junior, can you get that tarp?"

"You're right, of course, Maeve. Grace and I will be happy to help in any way we can."

He turned to Molly. "I apologize for snapping at you. There's enough to do without random strangers getting in your face."

He returned to his post at his wife's side. "I have a favor to ask, though. We shouldn't leave Angie alone, and I think it's best if Grace or I are with her. We're most familiar with her moods and may notice things more quickly.

"Also, if Grace goes out to gather things, I'd prefer her not to be alone. Night is coming and there's no telling what surprises it has. In fact, it may be best to send everyone out in groups or pairs for safety."

He watched as Junior came out with the emergency kit. And it had antibiotics. Great news!

He gratefully took the antibiotics from the box and sat down to read the dosing instructions. Angie groaned and he turned to her. "How are you feeling?"

"All right. Just sore, I guess." She blinked and stared at him. "You're sure Emma's all right?"

"Other than being spoiled by grandparents, yes."

"Why can't I remember?" She paused and added, "I can't even remember your parents' names."

He could do little more than hold her and try to comfort her. While thankful for Maeve's thoughtful care, he wished again for a fully-staffed trauma center to care for her.

Maeve nodded at Dan.

"Angie and Ainsley should definitely not be left on their own--neither of them is in a position to be up and moving around without assistance. Why don't you stay here, and Grace and Kaelin can help the three of you sort through and organize what has already been collected and what is brought back between now and sundown? Out of the rest, one group can collect driftwood, another retrieve the tarp and some more water, and the third can set a frame up for a shelter. We wouldn't happen to have the luck of having any other experienced outdoorsmen, would we?"

“I’ll get the tarp right directly,” Junior said as he bounded off. He slowed and looked back at the group for a moment, before turning his head out to the sea and the reddening sun over it. Now was a good time for him to show the folks how quickly he could build a shelter. He could get a job done if he focused on it.

Soon he’d brought the tarp back to camp and had prospected the best fallen tree to use as the beam for their shelter. -Best to focus on creating one shelter tonight that everyone could huddle under in case of rain (although by the sky there wasn’t much chance of it) and then build roomier abodes in the morning. The tree was about twenty feet from the fire, away from the river, and had fallen in such a way that there was about two feet of space underneath the middle of it. With a little digging, sand could be cleared to make even more room. He hated to stereotype, but he ask Mel if she mightn’t mind helping with the digging. Then, using the machete and enlisting the help of one of the other gentlemen, he cut some bamboo-like plants to prop against the tree so the tarp wouldn’t droop to the ground once they draped it over. They notched the tree in places so the bamboo would stay in place more easily. Then, they stretched the tarp over the construction and anchored the corners with medium sized rocks that one of the girls had provided. It was snug, but it would do for the ladies for the night at least. As for Junior, he intended to sleep under the stars and laid a found beach towel under a palm tree for that purpose. He’d need a blanket before the night was through, but he was confident he’d find one amongst the piles of found items. He quickly took some of the leftover choppings and built up the fire, which his feet would point towards when he sat on his towel. He then asked Miss Twig’s where he could find some dental floss. -He was sure to need some before bed.

Finally, his job finished, he sat on his blanket and watched as the sun touched the sea. It was a romantic moment, and for a minute his mind wandered back to a recent memory, from on ship. All too soon, the daydream was gone, as was the day. But then again, there was always tomorrow. And what opportunities might that bring? But for now, he sat watching the others and pondering his circumstances as he organized his shells.

"No wonder those tickets were so friggen cheap." Ainsley grumbled as she finished assembling a makeshift crutch from whatever she could accumulate from her stationary position.

"You aren't planning on using that, are you?"

"I've got boots with more time in the woods than you do, Jeff. Look at me, while richy rich is over there assembling that tarp of his, we need to figure out a way to keep us off the ground. Hypothermia will kill us faster than anything else out here and nothing will sap the heat from your body quicker than sleeping directly on the dirt."

Ainsley chucked a pebble at Maeve's foot, the woman seemed to have a good head on her shoulders.

"What do you think?"