Lost dropped to her knees at the edge of the creek, cupping her hands to test a sip of the water. Experience with shorelines left her confident that the salty taste was just the sand and not the source. Splashing a bit on the back of her neck, she stumbled up towards the treeline to investigate where this was coming from. She tested another sip under the first leaves of the looming plants - fresher, yes, almost fit for drinking. Before venturing further, she unsheathed the sword that had been hanging on her hip all morning. She had yet to meet any wildlife beyond the local insects, but she was of sound enough mind to recognize the possibility of others who laid claim to this water.
If the brush nearby was thin, a spot close to the creek would be a grand place to settle in. Sword at the ready, she continued to trace the creek inland a bit and survey the area around it for a suitable shelter location. She saw a promising patch not far in from where the trees met the shore: two of the palms had fallen of late, but away from each other. The space between them... Growth was thin, as the palms had kept other plants at bay by their mass until what seemed to be recently. It was fairly flat, not too vast, and the creek could be heard over the wind rustling the leaves about her.
Yes.
Here.
