Van rose to her feet shakily and stood to face the stranger.  Water dripped from her hair and clothes--she must have looked like a drowned mouse.  The waterfall babbled softly behind her, birds sang without care, and sunlight danced in her vision.  She lifted a hand to shield her eyes and felt unease settle in the bottom of her stomach.  

[i]Where am I?[/i]

The boy said something and she snapped to attention: "Uh, yeah. I did, didn't I?" She fidgeted, wringing out the water of her shirt.  She couldn't remember what she was last doing before she found herself here--or who she was entirely.  The dog tags were cold against her skin, and she looked down to the etchings on the metal.

"Van. I'm Van..." she muttered, looking at the inscription.  She picked up the metal and angled it to get a better look; her date of birth and name were on the front, and in the back, there was an intricate drawing etched into the metal.  For a moment, she got lost in admiring the metal work, and memories of a woman with red long hair flashed through her mind's eye for a moment before she stumbled slightly. 

She shook out her limbs, a practice she did to focus on the present before noticing that the boy--Malcolm--was standing their with his hand outstretched.  Van hesitated before reaching out to grasp it.  They shook hands awkwardly, the way teenagers did it, loosely and with sweaty palms.

"I don't know.  I-I don't remember much at all--"