All things considered, he'd adapted to being a shipwrecked fairly well.  At least a lot better than most everyone else.  Perhaps it was the fact that he hadn't really been used to anything other than scrapping by for very long.  He had grown up in the slums of the Imperial City.  His parents had sold him to repay some of their debts, so he'd never really known them.  A street urchin after he was turned out by them taught him everything he needed to survive in the city.  Granted, this wasn't the city, but he'd gotten good at hunting rats.  Small game here was the same basic idea... but he'd picked up a few tricks and managed.<br/><br/>Perhaps it was the fact that he had no desire for any mantle of leadership as some of the other survivors did.  Almost as soon as the first census of survivors were taken, he knew that first night that there would be eventual cracks.  It didn't take long - actually quicker than he had thought - but it started over the three cows.  Some wanted to slaughter one for the meat and use the other two to rebuild a herd.  Others were fine with the fish that they could catch and the small game they'd managed to bring down.<em>A cow.</em>He couldn't believe people at times.<br/><br/>At least he'd been caught up with the acolyte of Pelor, Saul.  The only surviving member of the clergy from the colonization ships, he'd taken up the mantle of priest fairly well, all things considered.  He refused to choose sides and set out on his own.  A few others followed and they came neutral in the conflicts.  Valla had come too...<br/><br/>He sat on the branch and looked out on the ocean stretching in front of him.  He had been nervous about sailing and his nerves had proven right.  But he survived, he always did.  Streets and now forest or jungle or whatever he should call this place.  He hoped he never had to prove to himself he could survive a winter with knee deep snow outside of a city.  He hated the cold.  He shivered just thinking about it.  "Come on, Tommy-boy, lets get back to camp."<br/><br/>Their camp was ten minutes away, he reckoned, and camp was soon going to be a misnomer.  The first thing Saul had them do was work on a small shrine to Pelor to hold service at.  It was at the front of their camp - although he had heard grumblings it should be at the center as with tradition - but it was one thing that both he and Valla had agreed on - neither wanted either side moving through their camps.  He wasn't sure if they'd steal from them, but if he were in their shoes... he would.<br/><br/>Saul hated it when he and Valla agreed.  Both of them had strong personalities and charisma enough to probably rally them to march into the sea with enough time.  Usually they disagreed about... well, everything.  She was more structured and had to do things a certain way.  Tommy... he hadn't had a plan in years.<em>No, that's not true,</em>he thought as he walked,<em>I had planned on becoming an apprentice,</em>he thought, laughing at how plans never worked.  Valla was to be an apprentice too.<br/><br/>He stopped and sighed.  Maybe it was good that they hadn't gone there.  He'd probably washed out by now, comparing his abilities to Valla's.  She was a mage, wizard, sorcerer... whatever name they would use for her.  He was... raw.  Unrestrained.  Valla had some training, he was learning as they went.  Still, he had a few skills he hadn't shown anyone.  And he didn't plan to for a while.<br/><br/>He crossed into the camp and jogged past the shrine - Saul was there discussing some part of theology with a few people who had stayed after the service.  He got a stray glance from him, probably for missing it again.  Tommy just grinned as he walked over to the fire still burning in between the makeshift tents and the building cabins.  He glanced around, wondering what Valla was up to...