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                                                                                                                              LOCATION: Beach
                                                                                                                INTERACTIONS:[@Forecaster]
                                                                                                                         TIME OF DAY: Evening
                                                                                                                          HEALTH: Dislocated shoulder, minor concussion 
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[h1][center][color=Lightblue][b]Will Gunderson[/b][/color][/center][/h1]

[color=Lightblue]"Yes, it's very simple, just don't do it to fast, or-"[/color] 

Will cuts out suddenly as she pulls on his arm, harshly cracking the arm back into the socket. Will grits his teeth and rubs his shoulder. He smiles at her last comment.

[color=Lightblue]"I think you might have completely destroyed the socket..."[/color] He lets the sentence hang for a moment.

[color=Lightblue]"Problem for another day." [/color] Will stands, laughing, obviously only fucking with the blonde. He stretches his newly located arm and turns to Angela.

[color=Lightblue] "See? Good as new. First thing we should do is look through the luggage, see how much medical supplies we can find. We'll need needles and thread too, and any kind of alcohol we can find. I'm guessing a lot of us have cuts that will need to be closed, and we shouldn't resort to cauterization if we can help it.[/color] Will puts a hand on her shoulder and smiles.

[color=Lightblue]"And thanks. I'll repay you by closing up that leg of yours."[/color]
He winks and turns away from Angela, towards various luggage spread about the beach. His shoulder is now bruising heavily, and definitely doesn't look fun to deal with. But Will doesn't seem to mind, happily whistling a tune as he digs through the suitcases. How he is doing internally, however, is a completely different story. Angela would be able to see him glancing back at the ocean seemingly out of habit, like he was looking for something that would never show up. 

It doesn't take Will long to find the necessary items to start stitching, and soon returns to the fire with an assortment of pills and medical supplies.

[color=Lightblue]"Luckily, it seems that we were flying with some paranoid ass motherfuckers, and an assortment of their panic packing has made it to the beach. Here."[/color]

Will tosses a bottle of vodka to Angela. 

[color=Lightblue] "Not sure how this got past security, but it's ours now. You're gonna want to down some of that, this is going to hurt a lot." [/color]

Will stares at her for a moment, small smile lighting up his features. He then sits down and starts to sterilize the needles with a smaller, plane legal bottle of alcohol. [color=Lightblue][i]"What fucking luck we have. Let's hope I'm not the only bastard with medical experience."[/i][/color] He thinks to himself, looking briefly down the beach at the others. He looks up at the jungle while sorting through the pills, praying this doesn't turn into some Cannibal Holocaust type bullshit.