Peter, Alice, and Adalene were done scouting the island. It was a beautiful island, with a small mountain in the center and filled with natural springs, vegetation, and coconut trees.
They stopped by a spring and got a drink, looking at the scenery all around them.
“It really is beautiful,” Alice said softly, looking at the land around them, “How can a world so broken and shattered still have this beauty?” she mused, looking at the fish in the water below, tracing her finger through the water, looking at a patch of wildflowers. Peter was looking at her, the way her hair framed her face, and even though she had cuts and bruises, she still was utterly beautiful.
“Yeah,” Peter agreed and looked at the mountain above.
Something moved on the mountain, and Peter rubbed his eyes to see if he’d seen it correctly.
“Hey, did you guys see that…” he trailed off, looking at the mountain, confused.
“See vat?” Adalene asked, looking around.
“Nothing,” Peter said quietly, shaking his head, “It was nothing.” Nothing. Of course, it was nothing. Just the light playing tricks, possibly.
“Hands up,” a voice told them, and Peter, Alice, and Adalene turned around, seeing the figure towering over them. It was a girl, a little older than them with a tan tank top, black pants, and a hood with a mask covering her face. She had knives strapped to her boots and a sword strapped to her back, and she had her bow drawn.
Peter put his hands up, although Adalene’s hands drew her swords, and she readied herself for a fight.
“Drop your weapons or I'll shoot,” The girl said, her bow drawn and pointing at Peter’s face.”
Adalene stood her ground for a moment, then reluctantly threw her swords to the ground, kicking them at the girl.
“Ah, so you can cooperate,” the girl mused, the smile clear in her voice. Then she went back to demanding, asking “Why are you on my island?”
“We didn’t know it was your island!” Alice protested her hands up.
The girl turned back to Peter, who took in a breath to say something. The pain in his ribs came back again. A few days ago, Peter had fought Boromir, who’d broken a few of Peter’s ribs. Moving had become almost possible through the pain, but it was hard to breathe sometimes.
Peter tried breathing again, but the sharp pain shook his chest so much that he doubled over and fell to the ground.
“Peter? Peter! What’s wrong Peter?” Alice was trying to help him in an instant, and Peter rolled on his back, trying desperately to breathe.
But every breath made the pain worse, which made him panic more, which made him breathe more. Peter thought of the vicious cycle and tried desperately to calm down.
The girl had dropped her bow, now leaning over Peter, a fear so great in her dark brown eyes.
“What’s wrong with him?” she asked, kneeling down now to see Peter.
“I don’t know!” Alice responded in her panic, and Adalene ran off to get some help. “Peter, you need to calm down. Breathe slowly. Breathe.”
Peter tried desperately to calm down, trying to keep his mind off the jolting pain deep in his chest and to slow his breathing. He slowed it a little bit, but when Alice mentioned to the girl that Peter had recently broken some ribs, the panic gripped Peter’s mind again and his breathing quickened.
Luke, Richard, Helen, and Adalene came running back, and Luke pulled out the canteen that held the water from the stream Luke and Skylar had encountered days ago. The water could heal any wound it seemed, and as Peter was panicking Luke pulled up Peter’s shirt, revealing the burns from when his house had burned down years ago.
Luke poured the remaining water on Peter’s chest, and Peter gasped as he felt the bones put themselves back together, and eventually, his breathing slowed as the pain went down and he could breathe again.
Peter choked out, “That’s some good water,” and Luke hung his head, laughing silently.
“You always find the humor in everything, Peter,” he said, patting Peter’s shoulder lightly.
Peter laughed at that, slowly getting up.
Alice punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Peter Webster don’t you dare do that again,” she said, her face serious. Peter still smiled slightly, but then he heard the girl say something.
“Webster?” she asked. Peter had almost forgotten she was there since she’d been silent during Peter’s scare. Her eyes were now wide. “Webster?”
Peter nodded slowly, saying, “Yes, I know, it’s a funny last name.
The girl took her hood off, lowering the mask to reveal a head of curly red hair.
“My parents were John and Laura Webster,” she said, looking at Peter.
Peter ran his hand through his own red hair, although his hair was straighter.
“My name is Ruby Webster,” the girl said, “And I’m your older sister.”
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