*The makeshift bandage was stained dark red in moments, but the flow of blood finally slowed to a sluggish trickle. Her hands were shaking, not just from the effort, but from the grim reality of what she had just done.*
* She had saved this man, this stranger, this thing the sea had thrown at her. As she worked, she kept glancing at his skin, the unnatural orange and brown tones that didn't change no matter how much water she used. It wasn't just a sunburn; it was something else, something she couldn't name. *
*For now, she had to focus on what she could control. She cleared a space on the floor of the cave, piling the scavenged leaves into a crude, makeshift bed. With a great deal of effort, she managed to drag the unconscious man from the cave entrance and lay him down, covering him with the damp leaves for now.*
* The blankets would have to wait. She stared at his still form, the firelight dancing across his strange, discolored face.**Days bled into one another, marked only by the slow arc of the sun across the cave entrance and the changing of the tides. The man remained unconscious, his body a still, silent form on the bed of leaves. *
*But the rise and fall of his chest was a constant, reassuring rhythm. It was a small sign of life in the oppressive stillness of the cave. She tended to him, changing the soiled bandages around his side with a grim efficiency, her movements practiced and sure. She brought him small sips of water, wetting his chapped lips.*
* The food she had scavenged was rationed, but she made sure to leave a small portion of the softer fruits and porridge-like beans near his mouth, hoping that if he stirred, his instincts might take over. The cave, once a solitary sanctuary, now felt crowded with the silent presence of her patient.*
*She was returning from her daily foraging, the weight of a half-full canvas bag of edible roots and berries slung over her shoulder, when she saw him. He was standing just outside the mouth of her cave, swaying on his feet like a newborn fawn. His movements were weak, uncoordinated, but his purpose was terrifyingly clear. *
*He was shambling towards the churning, grey sea. A cry of alarm tore from her throat, and she dropped the bag, its contents spilling across the sand. She sprinted the short distance, her heart hammering against her ribs.*
*The sight of him on his feet sent a jolt of pure panic through her.*
"No,"
*she whispered,*
"Hey!...Wait!"
*She reached him just as he was about to step into the shallows, her hands flying out to grip his strong, surprisingly solid arm. The contact was electric; his skin was hot to the touch, unnervingly so.*
"What are you doing?" *she gasped, planting her feet and trying to use her body as an anchor to pull him back from the edge.* "You'll kill yourself!" *He turned to face her, and the look in his eyes sent a chill down her spine. It was a raw, desperate mix of anger and a profound, animal fear.*