[center][color=868324][h2]Ryan Phillips[/h2][hr][h3]The Big Island; 10:21 PM[/h3][/color][/center][hr]
[i]Do not freak out. Stay calm.

Do. [/i]Not.[i] Freak. Out.[/i]

The sound of his own ridiculously heavy breathing filled the air, the only sound that Ryan could hear. He had scrambled away from the ocean as soon as he felt the sand beneath his toes, liking his chances on land better than in the ocean. Still, everything had seemed to happen in a bit of a daze. [i]Okay, so I was on the plane, and the plane crashed into the ocean, and now... I'm on an island. What are the odds of that?[/i] Ryan looked around the beach and saw that it was just like you'd expect an uninhabited tropical island to be like; scattered palm trees higher on the coast, [b]plenty[/b] of sand, and a more forested area further inland. It almost felt too good to be true that the plane happened to crash close by, and Ryan could easily imagine it being the setting for a vacation romance novel or the island survival writings which he was accustomed to. "[b][color=868324]If this is some sort of writer's purgatory or something, I'd have to say that I'm disappointed![/color][/b]" Ryan shouted to the sky, almost as if someone were watching him through a hidden camera. [i]What am I doing?[/i] The thought ran through his head almost as quickly as the realization. "[b][color=868324]Oh no. No way am I going insane from sleep deprivation or anything like that,[/color][/b]" he said to himself, rolling around to find what felt like a "comfortable" pile of sand. "[b][color=868324]I know you, island,[/color][/b]" he spoke, this time to the island itself.

"[b][color=868324]And I'm not gonna let you take me down.[/color][/b]"

[hr][center][i]Time passes...[/i]

[h3]7:40 AM[/h3][/center][hr]

As soon as Ryan opened his eyes, the sunlight hit him like a truck. [i]Oh, right. The sun rises earlier near the equator. Good to know.[/i] He sat up despite the tiredness that spread through all of his bones. After taking a few moments to calm himself, he realized that technically, he had just survived his first night on a stranded island. He celebrated the small achievement before trying to decide what to do next. "[b][color=868324]Thank you, [i]Dead Waters![/i][/color][/b]" he mumbled gratefully, referring to the island survival series that he had written years ago. Working on the trilogy bad required him to analyze every possible aspect of surviving on an island, and he theoretically had all the information he needed. Putting the information into practical use, however, would be another task entirely.

Obviously, the first thing he wanted to look for was a source of fresh water. Everyone knew that you were dead without it, and salt water couldn't be desalinated without expensive equipment. His next priority would be fire, which would serve the quadruple purpose of providing warmth, cooking food, purifying water, and potentially signaling passing aircraft. Only after that would he set his sights to food and shelter. Ryan knew that he could either search on the coast or in the forest, and he quickly decided on searching the coast. "[b][color=868324]I'll be less likely to get lost and more likely to find moving water rather than stagnant.[/color][/b]" With that said, he turned and began walking along the coast, looking for a stream connected to the ocean that could serve as a water source.

[i]It shouldn't be too hard. Right?[/i]