The sun on her fur... The sound of waves... the salty smell on the breeze...
These were the first things that came to Colleens mind as she lay on her back clawing her way out of the deep blackness that only unconsciousness could bring. An attempt to move left her gasping in pain as bruises and muscle aches resounded through her whole body.
Something had happened. Something...
The crash of thunder... the flash of lightning... the smell of smoke...
"Mayday! Mayday! This is Number 247! Repeat, this is Number 247 on route to Paradise Island! We've taken a direct hit from a bolt of Lightning! Instruments are fried! Systems failing! Coordinates are-"
An explosion, blinding pain, the sensation of falling...
Cold, smothering water...
Colleen gasped as her eyes shot open and immediately she slammed them shut again in pain against the bright light. The memories were coming back. A tropical storm had sprung up in their path, rather than go around the pilot had assumed it wasn't a threat, but it had worsened as they approached, and developed into a full-on typhoon by the time they were in the thick of things. One of the engines was struck, the plane went down...
It was with some reluctance Colleen tried to open her eyes again, the bright light still threatening to blind her. Moving her hand to shield her eyes felt like lifting a ten ton weight. Still she slowly did so and peaked out at her surroundings. Slowly the image of a pristine white beach came into view.
It was marred only by pieces of wreckage from the plane.
Again Colleen gasped and tried to move. The pilot! She'd almost forgotten. She was a Rover she had to find him and save him if she could. Standing proved difficult as every inch of her body ached and her left leg probably had a fracture. Still she forced herself up to look at the scene.
It wasn't good.
From what could be seen of the crushed trees and scattered wreckage the plane had almost missed the island entirely. She could see the path carved through the forest where it had come down, snapping trees and carving a deep furrow through the soil and sand. Bits of the plane were scattered all over, but the majority was gone. Given the way the trees had been flung they'd started to come down on the island, which meant...
Colleen turned towards the ocean and felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. She'd been lucky, the plane had crashed and she'd been thrown from the wreck, but the pilot and plane had continued on, plowing nose first into the sea. No doubt the plane was lying at the bottom of the ocean right now. And given how much of the furrow had been washed away by the tide and the clear skies overhead, even if she'd been in any condition to make a dive there'd be almost no chance of finding anyone alive down there.
All Colleen could do was mutter a quick but solemn prayer to the pilot and give thanks for her own survival.
Of course another problem immediately became evident. With the plane swallowed by the sea she had no radio to call for help, and unless a message got out in time it would be a while before the crash sight was located.
"Well as long as I don't find a boat marked the S.S.Minnow or find the bones of someone in a red shirt and white hat I should be ok," Colleen tried to joke to keep her spirits up but really the whole thing was more than a little sobering. "Well if there's one thing all those survival training classes have taught me, it's the first thing to do is build a fire. Ok technically it's not to panic and make a signal, but I think I'm beyond panicking and the wreckage, though scattered, is fairly visible."
Fortunately there were the smoldering remains of part of the jet engine nearby, and though it had long since stopped and was mostly drained of fuel, a small fire still burned in the corner of it which she was able to used to light some branches and build a bonfire on the beach. If she was going to survive until rescue it was a start at least. But already something felt strange about the island. Something she couldn't quite pin down right off.
Option One: She's not alone, there's a rustling in the bushes. Strange anthro creatures are natives of the island and believe she is a goddess descended from the heavens.
Option Two: Something smells funny about the burning branches and sand. They don't seem right. A sniff and a taste reveals the sand is pure sugar and the branches are beef jerky. Everything on the island appears to be made out of food of some form or another.
Option Three: More choices
Option Four: She searches and finds an abandoned military base. Old and disused the question of just what was experimented on becomes more concerning based on some notes she finds.
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