[Sam Tyler] Boar of the Flies
WHO: Sam Tyler, Dean, Sam Winchester, Miho, Methos
WHEN: Day 37, mid-afternoon, following Learning from the Fates
WHERE: CC2, treeline
INVITED: Any hunter types
STATUS: Complete
Standing at the head of the game trail with Miho reminded Sam of his attempt to lead a "rescue" party to the DHARMA jail during the amnesia fiasco. Sam had soon learned that the jungle wasn't his element. It was John Locke's, however. He'd happily handed the reins to the soft-spoken Yank.
Only a week had passed, yet Sam felt considerably more at ease in the tropical forest. The jungle still wasn't his element, but Sam had adapted out of necessity. Swapping bodies with feral, half-alien Ripley had little to do with it. Nothing, really.
The Winchesters loped up to Sam and Miho. Each of the young men carried a bamboo spear, at least one knife, and a water bottle or canteen. Dean had knotted a serviceable back holster out of rope for a sawed-off shotgun. A semi-automatic pistol was stuffed in Sam's waistband. After giving Miho an appreciative once-over Dean asked "Is this everybody?"
"One more," Sam replied. "Dr. Pierson." The brothers exchanged a look. "What?"
"Pierson's great with that sword of his," Sam explained, "but I don't know how much good it'll do against a pissed-off boar."
"About as much good as your firearms," Miho stated with a shrug.
"Can't hurt to bring 'em, gorgeous," Dean grinned.
Sam nodded in agreement. "Have any of you ever hunted boar previously? Locke gave me some pointers, but I've no practical experience. I wish he and Tom--, ah, Hugh could have come along."
WHEN: Day 37, mid-afternoon, following Learning from the Fates
WHERE: CC2, treeline
INVITED: Any hunter types
STATUS: Complete
Standing at the head of the game trail with Miho reminded Sam of his attempt to lead a "rescue" party to the DHARMA jail during the amnesia fiasco. Sam had soon learned that the jungle wasn't his element. It was John Locke's, however. He'd happily handed the reins to the soft-spoken Yank.
Only a week had passed, yet Sam felt considerably more at ease in the tropical forest. The jungle still wasn't his element, but Sam had adapted out of necessity. Swapping bodies with feral, half-alien Ripley had little to do with it. Nothing, really.
The Winchesters loped up to Sam and Miho. Each of the young men carried a bamboo spear, at least one knife, and a water bottle or canteen. Dean had knotted a serviceable back holster out of rope for a sawed-off shotgun. A semi-automatic pistol was stuffed in Sam's waistband. After giving Miho an appreciative once-over Dean asked "Is this everybody?"
"One more," Sam replied. "Dr. Pierson." The brothers exchanged a look. "What?"
"Pierson's great with that sword of his," Sam explained, "but I don't know how much good it'll do against a pissed-off boar."
"About as much good as your firearms," Miho stated with a shrug.
"Can't hurt to bring 'em, gorgeous," Dean grinned.
Sam nodded in agreement. "Have any of you ever hunted boar previously? Locke gave me some pointers, but I've no practical experience. I wish he and Tom--, ah, Hugh could have come along."