<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/ab/3d/be/ab3dbe6d89c729a2507abe4a6d78f2d8.jpg)<br/><div align="center">Lucas</div></div><br/>As the rush to act passed, Lucas sat down on the deck with a thump. "Thanks for the concern guys. Really not in a position to turn down any help right now." He ran his hand down over his legs, pressing water from his pants. "Not that I've many folk who are last while. Some who thought they were, of course." He shrugged in a low slow motion, his whole body sluggish and gently shivering. "Completely dry's been a while, but only really had dew and fog on me till a day, maybe day and a half back when my raft shed half it's... ballast? Whatever that word is. Floating stuff."<br/><br/>He stared at the firepit as it was prepared, looking at the dead frogs and licking his lips. "Gotta say. Any kind of meat seems great right now. Might still have some cans in the bag, if we want something to go with." Lucas had already rationed himself through half the stock he'd found, and the soak in the river had probably shed the labels off, but he figured sharing was a good plan. "Wouldn't surprise me if the way under deck was covered up. Maybe by a storage box or something. Don't want the tourists poking around, and the guys running the tour probably commuted home. Just a left over bit of design, you know. Vestal or whatever." He'd probably laugh at getting the word wrong, if he were clear enough headed to realise it.<br/><br/>Rambling a little now, Lucas slumped a little in place, fussing and cleaning up as well as he could. "Just to say it again, thank a lot guys. I'd painted my dumb ass into a corner." He flashed a weary smile. "As I said, I'm Lucas. Broadbent if we care about surnames anymore. Jim and Arlene right? When's the last time either of you got completely soaked?"