He still went out there. Not every day, of course. Hell, he wasn't some stalker or anything of the sort. The sad fact was that it was the happiest he'd been on the island thus far, and he wasn't ready to let go of it. Granted, the dead people in the water kind of killed the atmosphere... Alright, that's crude, even for you..., but it really was beautiful. He was smart enough to realize that going into the pond could make him sick, and disgusted enough to simply not go in again on premise alone. So instead, he chose to spend his time up on the outcropping he'd watched her jump off of. Something about it was safe and dangerous all at once. Kind of like her, in a way.

A faint growl escaped his lips. He refused to become some stupid fluttering pansy, just over a girl. And he probably could have convinced himself of that, too, if he thought of Kate as just a girl. Green eyes fluttered closed and he inhaled deeply, chasing thoughts of her out of his mind for what seemed like the trillionth time that day. Instead he watched his feet, dangling off the rocky ledge, hovering over the pool below. He swung them, much like a child, yet entirely absentmindedly, as he searched for something; anything; to think of.

"Screw this..." Bare feet met with cool rock as he stood up and stretched. He made his way back down and settled his feet onto the grass, wiggling his toes as he did so. No matter how much he hated this Hellhole Island and all it's crazy jungle mysteries, every once in a while, simple things about it made him feel like a kid. Or what a kid was supposed to feel like... He hadn't had much of a chance to be one, after all. Toes stopped moving, and his eyes closed again. Another line of thinking that wouldn't end up much of anywhere good. A tempered sigh escaped his lips and he reached down slowly to lift his shirt. The black one was a personal favorite of his anymore. Perhaps it was symbolic, but he didn't think to much on it. His fingers no more than touched the material, than a movement caught his eye. For a moment, he didn't want to look. Yet he did. Green eyes full of apprehension, as the bushes only feet away rustled. At first, his fear gripped him. The rustling stopped and then restarted, and the expression of fear changed to that of confusion. There was no way on god's green earth, or even wherever the hell THEY were, that THAT was the monster. It didn't make any noise, and to be frank, it was a really small bush. He felt damn stupid for getting worked up so fast. But now that he knew it wasn't a monster or a polar bear, something in him demanded to know what IT was. He let go of his shirt once more, and slowly made his way towards the bush. The faint thought that he probably looked stupid as hell creeping up on a bush didn't deter him, either. Emerald orbs narrowed to slits as he spied the movement within. Slowly; probably far more slowly that he should have; he reached his hand inside. It didn't take long for it to fight back.

"Son of a BITCH!" Sawyer ripped his hand away from the Bush and brought his thumb to his lips. He pulled it away to assess the damage that the little hellspawn in the bush had just done. "Alright! Let's see how tough you are!" Slightly bloody finger aside, he darted his hand in the bush and came in contact with fur. His hand wrapped around the small creature and yanked it out quickly, only to drop the animal in surprise. Grey fur flopped onto the ground unceremoniously, and it glared up at him, seemingly offended.

"I thought you things were supposed to land on your feet," he muttered, backing off a step of two. His thumb found it's way back to his mouth, and he hissed at the still present stinging. His eyes didn't leave the kitten as it meandered seemingly innocently towards the pond. Sawyer wasn't sure how this little thing had gotten on the island, since he didn't figure little gray tabby's were common on the tropics. He saw the little ball of far lower his body, tense and still, and it's gaze on something ahead of it. Confusion set in once again, and he looked to see what was about to be thoroughly trounced.

"You little.." It was far too late. The kitten had set off in a full out run, and was now delightedly mauling his shirt. "That's my god damn..." He started to yell, and immediately felt stupid. He, Sawyer; conman extrordinare; was yelling a little grey ball of fuzz. He sat down on the ground near it, and simply watched as his favorite shirt became less of a shirt and more of a play toy. Casting a gaze around, he made sure no one was around to spread this around. Why he should be so concerned about what everyone would think about him and a kitten, he had no idea. It's just a stupid cat...

And it was licking his thumb. The still sore thumb that it had, only a few minutes before, bitten the hell out of. He tried to ignore it. He really did. He thought of every bad thing, save a few, to keep him from paying attention to this bundle of fur. Anything from Hibbs to his first case of alcohol poisoning. The kitten mewled stubbornly and began headbutting his hand.

Green eyes rolled unceremoniously. "What?" he paused. "Oh great, now I'm trying to get you to talk," he muttered, exasperated beyind belief. His eyes didn't leave the kitten. Once more, his eyes closed, and he stood, picking up his pack and his now partially shredded shirt. He walked back towards the caves, absentmindledly wondering what Kate was up to, and then he tossed a look back.

"Damnit," It just stood there. Looking at him with big green eyes. He took the few steps back, and scooped under the kitten. It mewled lightly, but less in protest than what he assumed was a sound of triumph. "Yeah, yeah, I suppose you think I should name you, too. Well, fat chance, sweetheart," He knew he wasn't convincing either one of them. The fact was he already had a name for her. Something that suited a fiery ball of grey fuzziness to a T. "Just remember, -I'm- the boss around this here island, Sassafrass. Don't you forget it,"