An island in the Pacific.  A<span class="bbc_u">lone man</span>(http://i213.photobucket.com/albums/cc77/stugwilson/Morris.jpg) walks through the trees of an abandoned island, half-empty pistol in hand, watching carefully for any sign of life.  His clothing was torn, skin discoloured with bruises and dried mud.  Some blood tattooed his lower left arm, slowly dripping on to the green grass.<br/><br/>His companion was missing.  The young woman who had been so desperate to keep him company on this trip, now lost in the animal-infested wilderness.  The traveller had found her backpack hiding under a tree, everything in it except for the similar handgun he had given her for protection.  He had been hoping she was still carrying it, or at least, was safe.<br/><br/>An hour ago, pirates had appeared.  They were separated.  He shouted for her to meet him at the rocks on the south of the island, where the boat was docked, but whether she had heard, or the pirates intercepted the message, his young female friend was nowhere to be seen.  The man from Caledonia waited and waited, but soon was forced to abandon the location when a pair of unwanted pirates came in to view.<br/><br/>Looking to the sky in hopes that the answer to where she was would be there, he closed his eyes when the slight hint of rain began to form.  The traveller was close to the cave of secrets and valuables, but there was only one he was after.  And what brought on a faint smirk, was Morris was the only man who knew exactly where it was.<br/><br/>Then in unison with the rain, something rustled the leaves of the surroundings, the jungle whispered to life and the trees began to dance. The man from Caledonia had no time to move. His hand raised slightly, the metal pointed up.<br/><br/>The handgun coughed.<br/><br/><div align="center">[[ Need a female travel companion.  Anyone? ]]</div>