I was snapped out of my reverie by the sound of a motor coming from behind me. I turned trying the see the source of the sound, but I couldn't see anything. Suddenly, I was struck with a desire to hide. There was nowhere to... oh, wait the trees are like fifty feet away. I jogged the last fifty feet wincing with each step and desperately trying to hold my broken arm still. I entered the tree line and stopped jogging but continued walking. The sound of the motor was getting louder and louder. It seemed like they were right behind me. I turned and peered through the trees trying to see the source of the noise yet again. I was barely able to make it out as it sped by my hiding place. It was a sleek black motorbike with silver handles. Riding the motorcycle was a person(obviously) with silver hair. Now anybody who knows anything about anything knows that silver hair is almost always bad news. I was very glad that I had acted like a little kid and hid behind a tree at the sound of a motor. I waited behind the tree until the sound of the motorcycle had faded to silence. Slowly, I walked towards the open to look around and to see where the silver-haired person on a motorcycle had gone. After a couple steps, the pain from my arm reminded me that I had more pressing matters than a speed demon on a motorcycle. I turned around and began to look for a water source.

As I trudged along searching for a water source I also scanned for sticks that would be thick and straight enough to split my broken arm. I finally found two sticks that matched my criteria, but I still hadn't found any water. I decided to continue to search for water before stopping to splint my arm. So, I continued trudging.

I was about to give up looking for water when I heard the slight babble of a brook. I perked up immediately and started listening harder. Listening harder, that phrase doesn't make any sense. How do you listen harder? Anyway, I managed it, determined the direction of the steam and started walking toward it.

I arrived at the stream, washed my hands and gently rinsed the dirt off my broken right arm. I then proceeded to rip off a strip of cloth from my shirt and used it and the two sticks to splint my arm. I had never been more thankful for my over-cautious parents forcing me to take emergency first-aid classes. The throbbing in my arm intensified and I decided to sit and rest against a tree until the throbbing faded. What happens in all the stories when the main character is injured and decides to rest for a minute? They fall asleep. Yep, I was in the middle of an unfamiliar forest with a broken arm and I was falling asleep on the ground. As I slowly lost consciousness I thought of a hundred different reasons I should move to a safer location than the floor of the forest. First, I could be eaten by wolves, or bears or any other carnivorous animal happened across my body. Second, I could be touching a poisonous plant, which means I will wake up with a killer itchy rash. Third...zzzz