How the hell do I get myself in these messes? Methos wondered angrily.
Not only have I crashed on the strangest island known - or unknown - to mankind, but I'm strung up in a bloody cargo net!A rustle of leaves made him look up sharply. "Who's there?"
Nothing, then a pair of lorikeets chasing each other between the trees. Methos wasn't convinced. He also couldn't reach his sword, much as he'd tried to wriggle into position. The most he'd managed was to draw the blade partway, then shuffle up and down in an attempt to cut the thick vines, but all that ceased as he focused in the direction of that sound.
"Hello?"
A dirty, rag-clad female stepped into view.
"Bonjour."( the story so far )