Mar 29, 2008 15:00
The island had changed significantly thrice in the time Kendra had been on it. She was hard-pressed not to think of this as evidence that she was actually on a laboratory table somewhere, or in a tank, or whatever place Cylons were most likely to stick a POW they were doping up with some kind of radical hallucinogens.
Briefly, with some measure of grim humour, she considered asking one of Cylons where exactly she'd be most likely to be, in that scenario. But then, in that eventuality she'd be asking a hallucination.
Or, the worse possibility: they might answer.
Better to treat everything as real, especially since she couldn't accept that her mind would come up with this. Which left the question of what to do with her time, since she didn't have any duties as such. Nor any projects; it wasn't that she didn't have any initiative, she just didn't have anything to spend that initiative on. She wasn't part of this society. She was just stuck here.
So in absence of anything better to do, she'd hung a sheet of paper with a painstakingly drawn target on it from a tree near her hut and was meticulously shooting holes in it. She had enough spare ammo for target practice. For now, at least.
sharon agathon,
leoben conoy,
wyatt cain,
kendra shaw