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.