ShadyDancer1

The old man turned out to be called Lange. Old and carrying a limp, he said he came from Hamburg but had spent a decade in the US before becoming marooned on this island. He'd been going to the beach, looking to gather what he could that washed up, or to siphon any fuel from small boats into the large cannister that he carried on his back. As he sat with Calah, she could see how drawn his face was, alongside the twisted scarring than ran down his neck. "Must have been your boat. Got a fair bit of rope, canned food, metal scrap. Even some cutlery and work tools" he patted at his full bag. "Useful stuff. Not too sure where the rest of the boat