Is that...? Could it...? Maybe...?

Lost continued to follow the shoreline southwards. The sun was beginning to steal the moisture from her body as she pressed onward, seeking unsalted water. The ocean, as tempting as it may seem in the heat, would be a fatal choice. Forward...
The sunlight and exertion was addling her further than her already hungry belly and sleep deprived mind already had thus far. She knew better than to expose herself, though - the direct light was worse than merely its heat. Onward...
As she came out from around a blind bend of the shoreline, something looked awry. Something about the sand did not match the other sand... It looked darker... It looked more... reflective? She couldn't put the pieces together, so she simply continued towards it, hoping answers would present themselves. She didn't care to ponder; she was too weary, and whatever oddities of the sand would become clear once it was underfoot.
There was a subtle shift in the sounds of water beside her. The waves sounded the same, but there was something else. What... What could it be...? The heat and thirst were making Lost dizzy, and this new sound confused her. Step... Another step...
The dark, shiny sand was just up ahead, now. Curious, how that stripe ran from the ocean to the unending wall of trees... Realization struck her rather bluntly as the small creek came into focus before her.

Southward

Deep breath... Lost headed southward along the beach, still wary of what lurked beneath the trees. Hopefully any springs about her did not rebury themselves before reaching the shore; if that were the case, hope of survival is all but lost before having a chance to glow within her. The chills of the night before left her with little energy to press onward, but it was not as though she had much to return to - the lean-to could be rebuilt elsewhere; anywhere... There seemed no shortage of trees about.
The scenery changed little as she moved forward; this could be a good or an ill sign - it was to early to tell for sure. Eyes alert but hazy looked forward down the shoreline, seeking signs of water besides the abundant ocean. The shore curved a bit this way and that, sometimes helping and sometimes obscuring her sight of what was ahead. The gnawing on her stomach was a distraction but not of grave concern. No, that which was all too abundant but of the wrong sort was what she needed: water.
The only thing reassuring was the consistent sound of the waves around her. This island was unknown, but its kind was familiar. The waves that she had rocked in for much of her life were still there beside her; not everything familiar was taken from her by the pirates; they could not steal away with her memories of the sea.