“I am sick to death of mangos!” Armin shouted as he hurled one against the cave wall. It splattered, and the pulpy fruit splashed into the water in the cave. The tide was in, and so the small space felt even smaller, the waves lapping at the small sandbank just a few feet from where the group’s fire had burned steadily for the two days since Zaida had gotten it to light. Since that time, no new people had shown up on the shoreline, the trio having gone out two at a time in rotation every six hours or so to check. By this point, they had traversed the entirety of the beach, having discovered that the sandy bank ended a mile or so in the other direction with a similar rocky bluff.

“Do you want to go looking for some other kind of food deeper into the woods?” Esther posed this as a serious question, but Zaida giggled and teased Armin, “You know he’s too scared to go into the woods after the other day with that dog!”

Armin flopped back onto his pile of leaves and sighed. “Fine. You know what? Screw it. We’re all gonna die on this island anyway, I may as well go out running from a rabid dog.”

Esther looked over at Armin between bites of her own mango and frowned, “I don’t think the dog was rabid. Its eyes were lucid, and it wasn’t foaming at the mouth or anything. I’m pretty sure it was just hun-”

“Okay, okay! Who’s coming with me then?” Armin hopped up and crossed his arms, “Hm?”

Zaida swore as the sharp rock she had been using to bring a stick to a point broke suddenly in her hands, giving her a small cut. She set the broken stone to the side and hopped up, “Guess I will. You gonna be ok for a bit, Esther?”

Esther nodded and went back to nibbling her own fruit as Zaida and Armin waded out of the cave into the afternoon air.