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As Jacqueline limped across the beach, ignoring the dead bodies in her wake, she noticed movement. At first, she worried it was local beasts smelling the fresh kills and hoping for a decent meal, but the figures were human-shaped. That didn't mean they weren't dangerous and Jacqueline cursed the Captain for removing her weapons.

As her eyes settled, she noted that they were part of the passengers on board alongside her. She hadn't made conversation with them, but she recognized them nonetheless. She limped her way over, noting everyone looked worse for wear. As she got closer, another figure on the ground moved. She became on guard again, wondering if the dead were coming back to life until she saw it was the Captain. 

The options were not great, but it bet sitting on the beach cooking in the sun and waiting for gods knew what. If they were going to make this trek on foot, she would have to gear up. She scoured the beach for something, anything really, to help her. She saw a blade on the ground and almost cried tears of joy until she noted the cutlass was rusty. It would do in a pinch, but she would have to either fix that or find another weapon. She also saw a bottle of rum. She picked it up before any of the greedy others got their mitts on it. She poured a fair amount on the wound, feeling the sting of alcohol hitting the broken flesh. It would do for now. She then took a hearty swig before offering the bottle up. [color=AF483B]Drink up! Who knows when we will get another chance."[/color] It was probably stupid of her to drink rum over water, but if she got drunk enough perhaps she wouldn't notice she died of dehydration.

She gazed at the jungle. [color=AF483B]"I say we go through the jungle. Grab any weapons we have. You never know what lurks there."[/color] She raised her cutlass, letting it glint off the sun. She assumed the others could handle themselves, but one never knew with men.