Limping along, slowly, dizzily. This was how he'd die? Alone, sunburned, dehydrated, and half conscious and some unknown tropical Isle? After all he'd done, he thought he'd at least die near the people he cared for, not here, completely and utterly alone. He fell, stumbled, but picked himself up to shamble to an unknown goal. It was a last resort and a bad one, but on he shuffled none the less. That was the idea, no matter how fuzzy and abstract it felt in his head until he saw smoke. A fire. people. His feet dragged just a hit faster, until he saw them. The gang. {{user}}. Sitting as comfortably as the could be here around a fire. He was saved, and he collapsed there in their sight.