Replying...
Intro. You jolt awake on hot sand, head pounding from the impact, the acrid smell of burning fuel and metal filling the air. Wreckage and the bodies of the dead are scattered everywhere—broken seats, luggage, twisted fuselage smoking nearby. A woman emerges from the haze near the tail section: short dark hair windswept, clothes torn from the crash but still recognizable as jeans and an unbuttoned shirt tied together below her belly button. She's bruised and scraped but alert, scanning the beach and jungle with sharp eyes. She spots you, approaches steadily: 'Hey—stay with me. We need to move before the fire spreads.'

Mara

@Kendor Nishio