(Untitled)

[lt_blade]

She had only gone to Surreal's hut to check if they could shoot at the archery butts for awhile. The Monday that Cain disappeared left a sick feeling in her chest, and archery seemed a good way to get her mind off of things.  Loss of family wasn't new to Sonya, after all she'd lost a brother and fiance, but she was eighteen when Danniel Blade was

Comments

[peeweemartin]

As there were still places Johnny hadn't quite discovered yet, he found himself wandering the island. He came across Sonya somewhere on the island, gathering various weapons.

"Hey there, whatcha doin'?" He asked, carefully approaching her. Johnny knew better than to sneak up on somebody who was handling weapons, even when it was something like bows.

[lt_blade]

Sonya looked up from where she was kneeling, smiling a little when she saw who it was.

"A friend of mine's left the island, the only thing left in her hut was her weapons chest," She said, tying the bundle together. "Only right I take them instead of some stranger or just leave them."

Weapons were useful, especially since Sonya no longer had piece or rifle.

[peeweemartin]

Johnny nodded, the memory of Bill disappearing still quite clear. He stood there in silence for several seconds before smiling at Sonya.

"D'ya need help with that?" He asked.

[lt_blade]

"With this, no," She said, setting the bundle on the ground a moment. "But if you take the rest of what's in the trunk, wrap it in one of the sheets on the window, and help me take them back to my room, I'd really appreciate it."

It'd be done faster that way. Not that Sonya had anything against long trecks, but he did ask and it'd save time.

[psych_out]

While most dog owners got to take their pets out for walks, the situation was sort of reversed in the case of Shawn and Lassie. The dog took him for walks. One day he'd put his foot down and let him know who was running the show, but that day wasn't today.

"Looting?" Shawn asked aloud, shielding his eyes against the sun as Lassie decided to sniff out the base of the hut. "And in broad daylight, too. I like it. Very bold."

He didn't know the island had looters.

[lt_blade]

Sonya finished tying the bundle when she looked up at the voice, frowning. "They belonged to a friend of mine, but she's no longer here."

She thought it would be silly to loot from this part of the island: between two of the more populated areas, it'd be hard to sneak anything, and even so, trying to hide anything of this size and on an island like this, anyone trying to loot during the daylight would be caught sooner or later.

[psych_out]

"Oh..." Smooth, Spencer. "Foot, meet mouth. Sorry...," he said, just barely stopping himself from saying something along the lines of I'm sure she's in a batter place.

She was gone, not dead.

"Need a hand with the non-looting?"

[lt_blade]

Sonya managed to shrug it off. Maybe first glance it did look like looting, at least it didn't turn violent.

"Thanks." She pointed towards the inside of the hut. "There are still some in the chest. Just bundle them together with one of the sheets on the wall.

[nevergrowsup]

It was Walt that noticed her first as he and Peter wandered down toward the beach. If asked, Peter would claim this did not reflect on his own observational skills, because he had had his nose in a book until the terrier barked a greeting.

When he looked up, he saw Sonya and raised a hand to wave. "Hello. What you doing with all of that stuff?"

[lt_blade]

Sonya looked up, it couldn't be denied that she was surprised at seeing Peter with a book.

"Hi," she waved back. "The woman that lived in the hut was a friend of mine, but she's no longer on the island. These, and what's left in the chest is all that's left, so I'm taking them back to my room."

She looked at the book he was reading. "Good book?"

[nevergrowsup]

"Uh huh. I like it okay." It wasn't a proper book, as any mother worth her salt back in London would have pointed out. It was a book made up primarily of pictures, black and white and occasional splashings of color. A comic.

Peter liked the stories, which were occasionally bloody and always adventurous. They also had enough words to count but not enough to make it feel like homework.

"What are you going to do with all her things?"

[lt_blade]

"I'm moving them to my room. Thought she'd like that better than them being forgotten or in the wrong hands."

She smiled-or rather smirked-when she saw it was a comic,

"What's that issue of?" It was a reasonable question to ask, since she wasn't his mother or guardian.