Snippet #1138996

Felix gulped as Warren left his company with those words. By no means was he about to go back to the beach unwillingly, but it was now a question of needs over irrational fears. Now noticing that since Warren would be gone, it would be difficult to find his way back if he were to get distracted by... anything specific during his trip for survival. Taking his jar of Tar Ink, he took a very thin brush and dipped it in the still rather liquid tar. Splattering it across the ground in a line, one could follow the line to his current destination, or back to this spot. Taking a few steps, he did not want to waste his ink, so he moved until he could barely see the line, and splattered ink again. Thankful for it's viscosity, Felix was now artfully arranging the ink as he walked so that it would make the most interesting of abstract characters, though they would still point in both directions.
If you've ever had fun playing with the cake batter at home with a spoon, you'll know how he felt.

Upon viewing the tip of a wave that had just recently crashed onto the beach, Felix instantly felt fear well up into his lungs. Staggering his breathing, it was evident that therapy was required. Turning away from the sea so as to calm his nerves, he eyed the tree tops for coconuts. Untying his scarf, he laid it down as flat as possible underneath the richest tree. Fortunately, this tree was warped forwards in an attempt to grab more sun, so Felix simply had to step up onto the "butt" of the tree and edge his way to the coconuts. Knocking them down one by one, the outwardly disgusting little balls of hair fell happily towards the awaiting strip of cloth below, and he began to pluck the leaves off of the top of the tree.With a handful of giant leaves, as Felix prepared to jump down, he noticed the number "664" on his left ankle. At first, he was thankful it did not say "666", but then was awash with a feeling of dread. If he was numbered, than for what purpose was it like this?