Must be something in the air...[Clayton]

[lark]

Growl. The sound of her stomach reminded her that she only had one very small corner of bread left, after pacing the loaf of bread and block of cheese she had been given carefully, the cheese went bad from extreme heat, and the bread...well. She had consumed almost all of it. With very minor trips into the jungle to locate water that was clean of salt, she stayed within her cool box, the water tickling the bottom and soaking her skirt and stockings rather well. The ember-haired young woman frowned deeply as she eyed the area about her. There was nothing..."Ergh..."

What rotten luck, she was going to die here if she stayed in this box, but the jungle was a dangerous place she had read about, and with her clouded, tired mind, she would probably run into something poisonous and die a horrid, puffy, poisoned death. Cringing, her soft hands touched her mildly grungy face. Perhaps a bath in the ocean was in order? She was sure she could find a quiet area where it was covered by trees. Lark was a lady of manners, and she didn't want to show off anything indecent.Grabbing the tattered cloth that was supposedly a make-shift blanket for when she traveled took off her shoes as to not get sand in them, and crawled out of her box, hair spilling over her shoulder with how she had to crawl on hands and knees to free herself from the cramped, damp space.

It was so hot. Huffing, she covered her face in her hands and debated on going into the forest and facing death. She couldn't do that, she simply couldn't. Fear overrode her will of exploration, and though she had a gun, it couldn't protect her from plants... Ergh, she could bathe in that nice area where she kept getting water from. It wasn't too salty, but it wasn't deep enough into the jungle to be clean of it. "Sure, why not?" She muttered to herself and the ginger-haired young lady made her way to the small area, removing her waist belt, and began unbuttoning her shirt. She could was her dirty clothes if she dug a little further away from the pool of water she was using...

But first, she'd worry about herself and get clean. As she continued unbuttoning, she froze as she heard a rather peculiar noise beside her and turned to look to the left. Um. Yellow? Yellow. Snake eyes. "Oh dear. Oh no. Oh my. Oh myyyyyy." She muttered to herself, holding as still as possible, arms up and fingers at the next button she had wanted to free.

"H-help?" She squeaked, hoping that by some force of nature, or by luck, someone would come along and get this snake. But wait. Blinking rapidly, one hand quickly went to her gun, and with a brisk, tight swing and pull of the trigger, she blasted the lower jaw of the giant snake right off, the shot echoing into the air. "HA!" Pausing, she cleared her throat and patted herself off, spotting a patch of red on her creamy colored skirt. "Oh no!"

Darting into the shallow water, she sat down and began to scrub at it immediately, seeing that the liquid did not turn pink was a happy thought, perhaps it wasn't to much of a stain! Scrubbing harder, she pursed her lips and brows furrowed, making sure what remained was as clean as they day it was made. If this was what she could do, then she'd just do it now. She had made a move to pull off her dark blue shirt, but hearing yet another noise set her on the edge. Moving over to the edge of the water, she reached out and grabbed her gun holding it close and ready. "...?"

[clayton]

Clayton was taking his time walking along the coast of Africa. He needed to get back to civilization, back to people and the world he could manipulate and own. He held his double barreled shot gun over one shoulder, keeping it out of it's normal pouch so he could use it quickly if need be. He not only had to worry about the beasts of the jungle, but of other humans.

He paused, though, his pencil mustache twisted as his lips tensed a bit. He could have sworn he just heard something. It sounded like someone calling for help. Generally, he would be more likely to ignore the request, but the voice had been womanly, and Clayton was not the type to ignore a woman in distress.

He had turned in the direction he was sure he had heard the sound come from, when he heard a gunshot. His well trained ears picked up instantly that it was a caliber in the .30's and thus a pistol of some sort. He moved with stealth, but speed, holding his shot gun in both hands, across his chest but slightly forward to be on guard.

He froze for half a moment, hearing a sound before him. He didn't want to announce himself, he had been in this jungle far too long, and had had yet to see another human. He assumed it was his loneliness playing tricks on him, and that shouting out to see who was there would result in nothing more than an angry beast attempting to attack him.

He elbowed through some undergrowth, his dark brown eyes narrowed sharply as he listened to the world around him. And then he froze, catching a glimpse of flaming red hair. Not to mention the flash of metal from a pistol. A colt, he could tell from here.

He stepped forward further, clearing his throat to let her know where he was. "You seem rather lost." he said, his voice smooth as silk and holding a smug tone. He was obviously pleased with himself.

[lark]

It would have been difficult to deny that she was startled, hands went over her heart and she turned around in the water carefully, wide eyed and wild-looking as her orange tresses fell every which-way. Startling white teeth clicked behind pink lips and the woman rose up, pushing the wayward strands from her freckled face. "It seems so, I"ve been stranded here for almost a week." She chirped out quietly, wringing out her skirt as much as she could. Formality with apparel was limited here in this hot weather, at least she wasn't wearing a loin cloth.

Eyes trailed to the deceased corpse of the snake that had bled out beside the water and gave a small shudder. It was as long twelve of her, she could easily be swallowed and it would have been as if she never existed. The thought of not existing drove her up a wall, but comforted her more than being shrouded by the constant upset and control of her family. Hands fiddled with her hair immediately, thankful the smell of tea no longer lingered in it, but the scent of oranges and other very tart fruits. Did oranges grow in the jungle?

Perhaps Clementines? She loved the both of them, and they brought relatively happy memories back to her when she was learning how to peel them from her dad. Though she had to open the first bit with a spoon instead of her thumb, like him, she loved peeling the skin around and around and around. Perhaps repetition calmed her. Looking up at the man in front of her carefully, she took in his appearance, wondering how a man in the jungle could acquire so many muscles - rather, maintain them. He seemed older than her, but not by too much, after all, her appearance was a little childish.

"My name is Lark Aisling, it's wonderful to see a human face around these parts." Of course, she could be hallucinating or creating what she wanted to see. Huffing under her breath, she developed a light pout that wasn't quite unladylike. After all, this water did have a little salt in it, she could have absorbed too much salt through her skin. That was possible. Clearing her throat gently, she tucked her gun into it's holster after shaking it free of water, and moved over, smiling a little bit. "May I ask your name, or would that be overstepping my bounds?"

[clayton]

"Clayton." he offered. It may be his last name, but he preferred to be called by just his last name since his days in the military. It was easier, and he responded to it quicker. He rested the butt of his gun onto the ground, resting his well muscled forearms on the barrel.

"And what, exactly, is a young lady such as yourself doing around these parts?" he asks, one brow raising as his pencil mustache followed the curve of his lip as he smirked just a little. "How did you even get down here in the first place? Isn't the type of place one goes for holiday. Alone." he smirks even more, shifting the weight of his well muscled body from one foot to the other, his hips moving as well.

[lark]

"It wasn't much of a choice for me. I was thrown into a crate and the ship threw me overboard when they though that they were in a good enough spot, I suppose." Lark muttered solemnly, hands fidgeting with her hair all the more. She loved her hair. It's bright orange and wild curls. She loved it very much, and held no regrets the day that she had cut her locks off. It was such an empowering change... Seeing the man named Clayton move, her bright green eyes shot over to him, staring calculatingly.

It was almost an invitation to ask what a man like him was doing in a jungle like this, but she was more intent on kneeling down and cupping her hands into the water, taking a small sip. Eh. Just a little more salt than usual, she was sure she was fine, especially now that someone else had a gun, and was with her in the forest. Hiking up her socks on her thighs, she peered around, straining her hearing to the best extent. Sometimes it helped, in the past, being such a lady and living in your home. There were no loud noises to disturb you.

"I need a little help, locating a pleasant place to stay, other than my box on the beach. I've started to get a few crabs trying to invade my home." Lark said, pulling her belted piece back on once the blood had soaked out and into the water.

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