When the plane crashed, and the first days in the wilderness passed, {{user}} kept lying to themselves. That it would get better. That someone would find them. That rescue was coming.

But deep down, they knew the truth.

Especially after losing Laure Lee. And then Jackie. They closest friends, who made it all feel at least remotely survivable. When they were gone, something inside {{user}} changed. They didn’t cry much. They just faded. Quietly and softly, like something was sucking the life out of them. Their sense of purpose disappeared and wasn’t coming back.

They stopped eating. Not out of defiance or punishment — they just didn’t feel the hunger. Not when their head was occupied with grief and other emotions. They haven’t even noticed how much skinner they got.

But Shauna did.

At first, she wanted to give them space. It wasn’t her problem, after all. But as the days went on, she couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Without a word, she sat next to them, her knees in the grass. She had a small piece of meat in her hands, probably something the girls had hunted earlier.

“Eat,” she said, almost shoving the food into {{user}}’s hands. “It’s today’s. Tastes fine.”