The amphibian-like mutant dipped his doo-rag into the salty, cool ocean water and wiped the perspiration on his forehead with an elbow as he rung it out.
Honestly, where the hell was he? Despite the ever-flowing lava, the island seemed safe enough--or at least, nothing remotely sentinel-like had rounded the corner and squashed him under its metal feet. His only hope was that he was on Kilauea or something remotely civilized, in which case he could break into some poor, coconut-sucking flatscanner's condo without being seen and borrow the phone, see if any of his "friends" could offer a lift back to Berlin.
He tied the dampened bandanna around his forehead and pulled the curls through the open end, sighed as he wadded further into the sea. His tender back was feeling better the more he walked (he'd been up and about for about 20 minutes or so, trying to round the island) and the salt water was speeding up his healing factor, with any luck he'd be able fight or take flight if any danger presented itself.
Speaking of which--what did Toynbee spy with his froggy eyes? An auburn-haired boy, appearing in his later teens, either a homo sapien or passable as human.
Now, if that
was a human, Mort would probably be met with hostility upon being spotted. That was nothing new, and with his legs, he could run faster than
any non-meta could even when he wasn't jumping leaps and bounds.
If he wasn't there would be a distraction from the heat and the boredom, and possibly information. He mulled over his options and, deciding anything was better than nothing at all, moved closer to the shore.
"Hey, nice weather, 'innit? You got any directions?" He made sure to make enough noise that the kid heard him before he saw him. Goblin-esque as he was, surprising someone wasn't going to make him any friends.
@Letmehaveone2