As they made their tenuous way along the ridgeline he looked back occasionally, making sure he knew the path back. Not like it would be difficult to see half a plane on the mountain, but the trees they were descending into would block their path. He frowned to himself. What was it that character did to find his way back? He thought about the marks on the trees, and cursed to himself that the airlines forbid any kind of small knife on their persons when they checked in. He paused and dug at his feet for a sharper shard of rock, then put it in his pocket. It would suffice.<br/><br/><i>“So, how are you holding up?” She decided to ask Mark as they made their way along. “It seems like another lifetime ago, we were ordering our meals.” A sort of chuckle left her mouth, but it wasn’t very convincing.</i><br/><br/>He stalled by stopping for a moment, catching his breath in the higher altitude air. “Well, a couple of hours ago I was happily flirting with this pretty girl in first class.” He grinned. “My biggest concern was having fun before we started shooting the next movie. Now…” he wiped a sleeve across his face, turned and looked around them, “I’m just thankful that we survived.” He looked back to her. “You know, that plane can hold two hundred and forty passengers. We have what; seven survivors, including ourselves? That’s…” he gazed up, contemplated the numbers, “three percent. We’re part of the three percenters.”<br/><br/>He rolled his lips between his teeth. “What about you, Nora? You doing okay?”