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Greg The Anti-Viking
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On the left is a mod, on the right is a pre-made psycho...get the picture?
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Morgan took the piece of bread and broke it off at the middle.

"Thanks," he mumbled, nibbling gingerly on the bread.

It was dry, it was stale and it was wonderful. When Morgan thought about it, he hadn't had anything to eat, for a whole day. The situation didn't present itself to eat of course, but the fact remained that he was now famished. At this point, the bread may as well have been a peach cobbler or an apple pie. It was only bread, but it just felt so good.

It was then that Morgan felt Jen's head slowly worm its way in between his arms and chest. He breathed in when she first touched him. She was soft, her skin smoothly pressing against his arms. He slowly moved his left arm around her shoulder and brought her closer. There were always moments like this.

Morgan was a tall guy, he knew that. It was a school full of tall people, Bayview. He was one of the taller people and he didn't even do any sports. Maybe it was the milk, maybe it was the early sleep when he was younger. He sprung up though, went up like a rocket. It was all in the legs though, his actual body didn't grow, he just had stilts for legs.

On the other hand, it allowed people like Jen to lean into him...

It was something they had done before. There was always moments like this back home in St.Paul. It was always something simple. Jen had a bad breakup, failed a test, problems at home. There were always moments like this.

"Morgan, I'm glad we found each other here. Without you, I don't know what I would have done."

He gently grabbed her shoulder and drew her in closer.

"Yeah...I am too Jen...I uh...I'm glad too..."

Morgan had wanted to say more to Jen right then and there, but the moment had past. In fact, he thought about what he had said and realized that the moment could probably have best been left in silence. Most of the time, he had always just said something to her. What he had said often made things all better. Now, words were becoming tougher. Not surprising when the three words that came to his mind he was afraid to say.

Stuck on an island of killers...an I'm...

He turned his head toward the ground and he felt a mist hovering around his face. Morgan took another bite into the half of a loaf, trying his hardest to mask himself. He was a poker player, and he was usually good at hiding emotions away when he really wanted or needed to.

I'm a joke...

Morgan breathed in, feeling his breath catch itself. He placed the bread into his lap and put his hands underneath his eyes to check for tears. Nothing. Relief filled his lungs and he began to slowly breathe easier. He knew Jen was scared, probably just as scared as he was right now. He couldn't be weak in front of her. If he looked weak, he'd let her down.

"All right," he said, nearly whispering his words to her, "This...this is what we're going to do..."

Already Morgan felt the confidence returning to him, in just saying a few words. He had always questioned whether those speeches at the end of movies or those pep talks that you heard in locker rooms really did exist. If they had any effect on them whatsoever. Yet here he was, just saying a few words and hope had restored itself.

"So we're still going to find that tall place, if it's the lighthouse, or hell somewhere close by that happens to be really tall...We're going to scan that island...and then...then we're going to find a way of this island."

He looked down and smiled caught up in the moment. He gave Jen a gentle shake to bring out confidence to her as well. He then let go of her shoulder and put the now free arm towards her right hand, clasping it down where their legs were.

"And...you know what...we'll get home...we'll...we'll see our parents...we'll see St.Paul...we'll see that muddy old soccer pitch...we'll..."

His voice trailed off as he found himself staring down at her hand. It was warm. Not that it was a surprise. There were always moments like this. Moments where the two of them sat, holding hands, and appreciating each others company, and in the case of Morgan, trying not to stare at her legs, or her curves, or her butt too much. There were always moments like this...

"We'll be okay..."
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Some Fantastic · The Felled Forest: North