Snippet #1173934

The water, despite its cool temperature to most, was sweltering and steamy to Lyra. She was almost fully submerged, only an arm wrapped around a piece of wreckage keeping her truely afloat. Overhead the sun seemed to laugh at her as it shined intensely down upon her; it was almost as if the storm hadn't ever exsisted minus the larger dark clouds in the east.

In her opinion, nobody else must have survived in the wreck. From her perspective the boat had been torn to shreds in a matter of seconds; of course the attack they had encountered just the day before it hadn't helped their condition. It was fate that had brought their ship to an end, killing most of the men along with it.

It was a miracle she was still alive, but Lyra, at the moment, wasn't happy to be. After floating through the water for the period of time she had she had grown dehydrated, probably a little starved, and crumpled from the salt in the water. She coughed weakly, looking up to see if land was anywhere near.

What she saw made her heart lurch; a ship. There was a ship, and it appeared that someone had spotted the rest of the drift woof. Desprately she waved an arm, coughing once more as she strained herself to get her hand high up in the air. "Help!" she called, voice ragged and dull though alive with fear.