Darkness greeted Brandon when he awoke face-down in the surf, the cold waters lapping lazily against his skin as the sound of waves echoed around him. It was a mistake to try opening his eyes, the water punishing his insolence with a painful, almost burning pain that caused him to slam his eyes shut once more. Although his head was pounding something fierce, one thought filled his mind,<em><strong>Get up.</strong></em>The sand made a soft, squelching sound as the suction between him and the shore was broken, causing the Hunter to clench his jaw and be greeted by the abrasive crunch of sand between his teeth as he got onto his hands and knees.<br/><br/>He was still in darkness when he retched up seawater, the briny liquid freeing his lungs and stomach as salty tears came freely to his eyes. With his knees shaking from the force of the expulsion, Brandon took a few moments to compose himself as he blinked away the tears until he could finally see; blurry at first, but sight is sight. The world was a palette of greens and blues intermingled with grey, spotted here and there by bits of dark brown, "<strong>Getting on that ship...</strong>" Brandon croaked as another spasm went through his body, causing him to retch up the last dregs of seawater before taking in a deep, almost frantic gasp of air, coughing in the process, "<strong>... Was a mistake.</strong>"<br/><br/>After a few moments given to compose himself, Brandon finally rose on unsteady feet to assess the situation. Disaster would be a more apt word to describe it; flotsam choked the beach as corpses littered the pebbled shore. Survivors were walking here and there, some talking to one another while others simply seemed lost, looking down to find something,<em>anything</em>that could be salvaged out of the wreckage. Brandon even saw the Dark Elf walking about, her exotic breasts prominently bare as Brandon gave a dismissive grunt,<em><strong>I wondered what she'd look like nude</strong></em>Brandon thought as he stretched out the ache in his joints,<strong><em>but not under these circumstances.</em></strong><br/><br/>A wind coming out of the ocean took Brandon out of his daze, causing him to shiver and look down at his own body’s condition. His shirt was in tatters, mere strips of pale white cloth that clung damply against his skin, it offered about as much protection against the elements as a necklace. His pants fared better; a tear here and there revealed hints of a leg or thigh, but for the most part it was still intact. Another gust brought another shiver, and spurred the Hunter to begin pushing towards the beach, knowing that staying in the water would just mean more lost heat (a resource as valuable as gold now, he thought sourly.)<br/><br/>Halfway through moving towards the beach, a figure in his periphery caught his attention. A woman, nude and apparently catatonic, was sitting in the sand with her legs tucked up under her chin, rocking faintly back and forth. Brandon’s brow furrowed at the sight, his sea-green eyes looking at her with… Concern? Pity? It was hard to tell with Circeli. Giving a glance back towards the treeline, Brandon muttered a curse under his breath before heading towards the woman.<br/><br/>Kneeling in front of Theresa, Brandon spoke softly (yet it was impossible to hide the hoarseness in his voice) as he tried to get her up and moving, “<strong>are you alright? Can you move? We need to get off the beach, it’ll be safer near the trees</strong>” Brandon reached out a hand to lightly touch her on the shoulder, trying to seem as non-threatening as possible. Although Brandon never took much stock in speaking, having difficulty with eloquence or subtlety (provincial would be a good term to describe Circeli,) he nevertheless knew the danger posed by potentially riling up a creature in shock, and Theresa (at least to him) seemed no different, “<strong>My name’s Brandon</strong>” he said, shifting and angling himself so he could look her in the eyes as he forced a smile, “<strong>You’re safe now, but we need to get off the beach.</strong>”<br/><br/>If Theresa gets a good look at him, she’d notice Brandon Circeli is tall and slim, yet the meat he does have on his frame is clearly muscle. Short honey blonde hair tops his head, slick and crusty with sand and seawater as similarly colored stubble covers his face. His facial features are nothing truly exceptional, more rugged then comely, the kind of face that wouldn’t turn heads, but wouldn’t be hard to look at either. His eyes are slightly sunken and sea-green, expressive and alert.