Hmmm. *Not* stone, then. Not fruit, either, but something *else*...Something *entirely* unpleasant to the touch...Charlotte gripped the fruit in her hand, as she opened her eyes...And understood. The *island* was morphic, if one willed it- Though it couldn't seem to create living things, more's the pity.<br/><br/>She began to walk, forming the image of a *door*, a path...Some way *off* this island...While searching if there was *anything* she'd missed, the first time...