The next morning, Connor awoke, stiff and aching and in enough pain that he was forced to take one of the very few Acetaminophen pills in the first aid kit. While it went to work, he stretched and tried to figure out how he would get to the ground, as well as what he would do about food and water. He had enough of the granola/protein bars for a day or two, but he'd need to figure out something before he was down to rationing them. Water he would need to get today, because there was only a few sips left in the canteen.

It took a little while, but Connor finally decided to descend from the tree the same way he climbed up there in the first place. His ankle wasn't quite as bad today - or maybe that was the pain killer talking - and nevertheless, he managed to climb down the tree without too much trouble.

Connor coiled his rope back up and put it in his pack, and then turned, looking around. He nibbled his lip and took one small sip of water. He was lucky that he'd researched random things on the internet in his spare time : he knew how to find water. Even millions of years in the past, the rules still applied.

x_x_X

Connor was not outdoorsy. He also knew he would never be as good a tracker as Stephen had been, and he was rather worse at it than Abby, but even he could follow the tracks of dinosaurs, the imprints in the dirt were pretty clear, and there were more of them converging as he headed downhill. Water flows that way, so it was safe to assume that it would be at the bottom of a hill. Add to that the masses of prints, and the difference in the color of the leaves? Connor was 80% sure he was headed in the right direction. Probably.

It was seriously hot out now that the sun was fully up, and he was sweating from exertion, but he didn't want to risk sunburn or loose his jacket, so he gritted his teeth and leaned on his improvised crutch, and continued walking. He wished Abby was here just because having another person here would make everything easier. Connor pushed away the thought; she wasn't here, he was alone, but he couldn't get upset right now. He needed to keep going, and not think about what ifs, or even his situation beyond what he could actually do.

His ankle was hurting again.

x_x_X

He waved his hand in front of his face to ward off the insects flying around. That was actually a good sign; bugs moved towards water too. Connor listened carefully for both dinosaurs and for any possible sound of moving water. He'd prefer a stream to a pond, because he was pretty sure there wasn't anything in his pack to help him purify water, and he didn't want to get sick. The Cretaceous wasn't exactly quiet, and while he couldn't hear any dinosaurs nearby, that didn't mean he could relax. This time period was full of carnivores, like he'd told Danny, and he had no intention of ending up a snack for a hungry theropod or carnotaur.

His stomach growled, and Connor grimaced. Once he found water, he'd have to do something about food. He wasn't really ace on paleobotany by any means, so he'd have to make some dangerous guesses when it came to edible or inedible vegetation, but he couldn't survive here without some sort of veg.

x_x_X

There was a stream, a clear, crisp, babbling stream that, when he waded in, reached his thighs, and was moving quick enough that it was hopefully safe enough to drink. Connor cupped his hands and drank in big gulps, breathing through his nose and grinning. He ducked his head under the water and straightened, sending water spraying everywhere. The water was cool on his hot skin, and well worth the uncomfortability of wet trousers and pants. Connor took a few more handfuls of water and then set about refilling the canteen.

He was relaxed, enjoying the fresh water and oblivious to the world, a dangerous decision even in his own time. The warning growling laugh of a raptor brought Connor down from his relief-induced high with a shocking suddenness. He swallowed audibly and turned, paling at the sight of the creature's bristling feathers and bared teeth. Connor backed away, one step at a time, slowly, not making eye contact with the raptor. If they were anything like cats, direct eye contact was a challenge, and one he didn't want to make. He had no weapons at all, nothing to use to defend himself.

Note to self, make a spear or a knife or— wait! There was a knife in his pack, a little one, but still a sharp blade, now that he thought of it! He carefully pulled it out. A small part of him wanted it to attack, to be able to prove himself, and a little tendril of thought in the back of his mind had him wondering what Raptor tasted like, whilst most of him was terrified and wanted nothing to do with it. He held out the pocketknife in front of him and tried not to limp as he backed up onto dry ground. The raptor glared at him a little longer, and then bent its neck and drank from the stream, the feathers on its neck lying flat once more. Connor breathed a small sigh of relief, and grabbed his crutch, leaning heavily on it as his ankle throbbed. Once more he was thankful he'd not managed to break his ankle in the fall, only sprained.

Protein bars would have to suffice for now, until he was able to run and hunt.

His stomach grumbled, and Connor cautiously allowed that he might be able to find some edible plants in the area. He'd have to.

TBC...