Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)Lance was in his first year of college, but despite that his high test scores and recommendations from his various teachers had earned him a spot on an extremely special field trip, one that was normally reserved for only the best final year and PhD students. The trip was to South America, a trek out to areas of the jungles that had never been touched before by modern man. The University was actively involved in efforts to further explore and document this part of the world, publishing several papers in relation to the area and several newly discovered tribes of people, so the trip was something of an annual event by this point.
The trip this year had started no differently from every other year, the group flying down to a major airport, getting various buses to progressively smaller and smaller towns, then villages, before beginning their month long trek into the jungles. All had gone well for the first week, the group making good progress, charting themselves, making their maps and surveys. Towards the end of the second week though things had gone rather badly wrong. During a sudden outburst of bad weather Lance had become seperated from the rest of the group by a mudslide, getting him turned around and before anyone had fully grasped what had happened he was too far from the group for them to hear his cries, or he theirs.
Lance had been wandering the jungle for several days now, his stomach grumbling with hunger, after all he wasn't sure what was safe to eat and what wasn't. He was tired, exhausted, he hadn't been able to sleep and had been moving nearly non-stop. His lips were dry, having only drank a few sips of water in the last few days. Put simply, he was on the very verge of collapse when he came across the village, stumbling out of the tree line. He looked around weakly, not entirely sure what he was seeing was even real. He managed to take a few steps forward into the village, before dropping to his knees, then falling to his side, a hand outsretched weakly, desperate for help.
The trip this year had started no differently from every other year, the group flying down to a major airport, getting various buses to progressively smaller and smaller towns, then villages, before beginning their month long trek into the jungles. All had gone well for the first week, the group making good progress, charting themselves, making their maps and surveys. Towards the end of the second week though things had gone rather badly wrong. During a sudden outburst of bad weather Lance had become seperated from the rest of the group by a mudslide, getting him turned around and before anyone had fully grasped what had happened he was too far from the group for them to hear his cries, or he theirs.
Lance had been wandering the jungle for several days now, his stomach grumbling with hunger, after all he wasn't sure what was safe to eat and what wasn't. He was tired, exhausted, he hadn't been able to sleep and had been moving nearly non-stop. His lips were dry, having only drank a few sips of water in the last few days. Put simply, he was on the very verge of collapse when he came across the village, stumbling out of the tree line. He looked around weakly, not entirely sure what he was seeing was even real. He managed to take a few steps forward into the village, before dropping to his knees, then falling to his side, a hand outsretched weakly, desperate for help.
