Asher, DAY 8

Over a week in paradise, no other close calls like the first day on the Island, but I also have yet to venture away from camp or my Trike companion. Well, neighbor is more like it… We aren’t friends, just in proximity of one another… My longing for human interaction has grown steadily as the days grow longer and survival gets a bit easier.

I’ve fashioned some crude tools; an axe, pickaxe, a spear for defense, and a torch. My lean-to has gotten stronger and a bit bigger as well. I capped one end and raised the sides and top as to make it so I could sit up with my legs crossed inside rather than just lay down.

Through trial and error, taste-testing the berries, I had found that the black berries would make me tired, and the white berries had the feel of a caffeine rush, but would leave me parched. The purple berries were by far the tastiest, not unlike a cherry, pit and all, but the distinct juiciness of a strawberry. 

Today, I had ventured down the beach to gather berries, back to where I had first come to in the sand, confused and wet. The same lazy-lizard worked its way up and down the beach. 

I began to fill my leaf-bowl with berries. For the first time, the lizard showed me some attention and began meandering towards me. It stopped at my feet as I picked berries, looking up expectantly… I fondled a purple berry in my hand and pondered.

“Hey little buddy,” I said, and I squatted down to it, opening my palm to present the berry. It’s beak-like mouth, similar to that of the triceratops, opened and it plucked the berry from my hand, popping it with a quick bite and drizzling juice from its mouth onto my hand. After one or two chomps, its strange and protruding tongue licked my hands, coarse and slimy. 

“That tickles,” I spoke to him as I stood, and he stayed at my heels, looking up at me… I felt awkward for a moment.

“What? You want more?” I asked it with a hint of sarcasm which spoke volumes of my level of social interaction these days. I felt playful.

“Here, have another” and I fed him more. A half dozen berries later, he broke into a sort of dance, making a snortish groany laugh of delight. I chuckled in surprise and bent down to pet him (or her, of which I knew not) and not unlike a cat, its head and back rose to meet my hand. I had made a friend finally.

After filling my make-shift bowl, the lizard-creature followed me all the way back to my encampment. 

“I think I’ll name you… How about Lyssa? Do you like that name?” I asked the lizard-creature, whom looked rather expressionless. Sarcasm kicking in again, “I like that name too,” I nodded with finality. My first tamed beast.