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[fivefingered]

Something enters. At first you might suppose it is an animal; but then you'd realise that the blackness that covers its body is dirt and filth, and although its hair is long and shaggy, and it is unclothed except for a bit of animal skin that is perhaps meant to be a loincloth, it is human. If you look even closer, you might see that it a man

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[theblondgypsy]

And Gringoire thought Quasimodo was frightening. "Holy Virgin! Is it a demon?"

[fivefingered]

Prendick laughs throatily, and prods at Gringoire with his oar. "Is it a man?"

[theblondgypsy]

At the contact, Gringoire leaps about 5 feet back. "I should hope so! You never know what sort of being you'll run into here."

[fivefingered]

"A man, a man." He does not move. "A real man?"

[theblondgypsy]

"What else would I be? A fictional man?"

[fivefingered]

"A false man."

[theblondgypsy]

"Well I'm not false, to the best of my knowledge. Anyways, what sort of man are you?"

[fivefingered]

"The last sane man." Prendick bares his teeth.

[theblondgypsy]

Gringoire flinches, slightly. "If you're sane, than I don't want to see an insane man. Where are you from?"

[fivefingered]

"England. I escaped from the Island."

[theblondgypsy]

"Well, I can't imagine that would be too hard. You'd just get in a boat and sail across the Channel." Gringoire says, thinking by the Island he means England.

[fivefingered]

Prendick shudders. "Hard. Had to fight."

[theblondgypsy]

"To get a boat? I didn't think England was that undesirable!"

[fivefingered]

"Not England."

[theblondgypsy]

"No? What island were you referring too?

[fivefingered]

"Doctor Moreau's Island."