[Undercover]

Originally Posted by littledragon0625

"they call me dragon"dragon said checking the bow inside the bag which was torn up the bow was ok and she had some arrows left inside."wait"she said looking throught the parts of plane in her way"got it"she said picking up a small knife(the one where you push a button and the blade pops out)that her dad gave her. she was scarce with the knife worried that it whould be helded the other way and slide into your skin but she was glad to have it."so whats your name?" she asked looking for more things in the wrecked plane.

( ( It's a switchblade. I have one of those. ) )
Heath Merchan | Age 25 | Co-Pilot

Heath slid his hands into himself pockets, sharp, icy blue hues gazing around at the island where they had landed. No, crashed. He looked back at her once as she spoke her name before returning to look at his surroundings, jamming his hands in the front pockets of his black slacks. He wasn't one to socialize, especially after such an accident. In fact, the only person who he had really let into his world was James, who was dead. A gasp of pain threatened to escape him, and Heath clenched his jaw to keep it inside. He couldn't get the image or memory away. It was burned in his eyelids, with him wherever he went. He rubbed his hand painfully hard against the compass in his pocket. I wouldn't want it any other way. I will never forget him. I must never forget him. Heath tore his mind from it's grieving and tried to take in his surroundings. From the looks of his plane, they were gonna be stranded on this island for quite a while. As the man got himself under control, he began to ponder her name for a moment, gaze lost in the distance. Dragon...surely that wasn't her real name?! Where are we? Heath's thoughts were scattered, which was unusual for the usually level-headed man. When he was in high school, the handsome young man used to get a fair amount of stares from girls. He never let it inflate his ego, though, and stayed focused on his studies. Heath had been a straight-up stubborn guy since the beginning, never straying from what his long-sought goal. And it payed him well as he became a pilot at age twenty, and co-pilot at age twenty-four.

Heath turned back to Dragon, wondering what she was registered as under the index of passengers. That would have her real identity, whether she wanted to have it found out or not. Of course, the records were next to no use to him now, as the plane was all but wrecked. Heath turned back to the island once more, lost in thought. They seemed to have crashed head into a sort of forest, full of green trees and shrubs. It was summertime, so the wildlife would be flourishing. Maybe he would be lucky enough to find a way out of here. Or at least plot where they were on the map. He could see and hear the crashing of waves upon a shore between a line of trees, cleared by the blunt path of the broken plane. Heath scratched at the back of his neck and faced the girl opposite him, aroused from his drifting, not yet grounded mind by her rummaging. At least she was trying to make herself useful and wasn't by just standing there. As he looked closer, he realized that Dragon seemed to have found something. So she had a knife as well. As she burrowed deeper, Heath let her question wash over him. "Heath." He replied after a moment, blending the word with a massive sigh as he smoothly pocketed a piece of the broken plane. Heath enjoyed collecting trinkets and small items. They were important to him, though he didn't know why. Back at home, he had managed to find many things in the Scottish streets, from a roughly flattened spoon to a piece of glass that looked like it was taken from the sun itself. Who knew whether he would ever see his family or his possessions again.