[Carlos] Chop wood, carry water (tag open)
Dusk had begun. Carlos was downing a serving of stew from his coconut bowl with the gusto of a guy who, well, hasn't had a hot meal in a week. "Mm. Damn. Screw everything I said about the yams in this stuff," he commented appreciatively.
Nice day. Certainly nicer than the last few he'd had. There were people here, reinforcements against this island's bizarre risks, an overabundance of pretty ladies, and friendships (possibly more?) already in development. Plus his head was hurting less and less as the sun went down. Soon enough, he'd be able to contribute more than just turtle-gutting.
Yes, much of the information he had gotten was confusing and alarming, and yes, he was still dealing with Ami's hard-to-ignore presence here. He was a little restless, and really wanted a drink or some other sort of distraction. Nothing he couldn't handle.
He grabbed a bunch of empty bowls when he was done, and headed downstream of the swimming hole to wash them out. Tending to the simple things in a situation like this was terribly important: chop wood, carry water. Most people went through their lives not even thinking of them. He imagined they would catch on here eventually.
Too soon for a swim, though the water looked tempting. He was bending over to pick up the rest of the bowls when he heard someone walking up behind him.