Isak awoke to a cacophony of bird cries and rustling leaves. He had to slowly work each muscle awake before he could rise to a sitting position, and even then his whole body felt sore. He was bruised all over, but no internal pain meant no internal injuries - hopefully. His throat was dry, and he realized he'd been without fresh water for some 12 hours or more. Sleep had helped to ease the aches, but it'd done nothing to sate his basic biological needs.

He remembered everything, crystal clear. Isak had supposed he would wake in a fog and have everything rush back to him, or that he would slowly start to remember details of the shipwreck, but neither of these were the case. He'd been conscious the whole time, save a long few minutes where he'd been underwater and blacked out momentarily. He wasn't sure how the ship had run aground in the storm, but he kept thinking about what he would have done differently were he at the helm. There were plenty of uncharted islands in the world, and usually seeing one in a storm would be a long shot. However, this island seemed quite large, one you would notice from a long ways off.

Isak had pulled himself from the shore up to the beginning of the jungle, soaking wet and falling into unconsciousness after floating toward the shore for hours. He knew it would be safer to let the trees and plants shelter him for the night, and when he awoke his skin wouldn't be cherry red.

Mentally returning to the present moment, Isak noticed a woman in a dress making her way up the beach. She had called out asking if someone was there, and he figured he had made quite a bit of sound rousing himself from sleep. Isak pushed some fronds aside and walked out onto the sand, noticing his shoes felt far too tight, and were still sopping wet. "Hello," he said, "Are you all right? If you're hurt, you shouldn't try to walk. Oh, and I'm Isak. I'd say nice to meet you, but under the circumstances it seems out of place."