I Am Cannibal (Rewrite)

part 6-Mitch

After wandering around for an hour or two, searching for a good, safe place to set up camp, Scott had stumbled across a clearing, near a small flowing stream of fresh water, surrounded by tall, evergreen trees, there were some fallen trees around the edge of the clearing, framing it, almost like a barrier.
'Seems like a nearly perfect place to set up camp!' Scott thought to himself, proud that he'd be the one to find the perfect spot.
Upon looking a bit closer, Scott noticed... footprints? At first he assumed it was some kind of animal tracks, but after closer inspection, he shuddered, realizing they were definitely human, or if not, something very human like. He quickly reminded himself that one of the others had probably been here already, so that was probably where the footprints had come from, odd that they weren't wearing shoes though...
He soon realized that some of the trees seemed like they had been deliberately cut down, it was almost as if someone had cut out the clearing on purpose.

Scott sighed, he wasn't sure if more people on the island, was a good thing or a bad thing, but it was now clearly evident that there had at least been some people here in the past. There was no use making up excuses in his head anymore, it was pretty obvious. But he ignored that fact for now, and sighed, attempting to refocus himself on the task at hand. Shelter and safety.

The clearing was close enough to the shore so they wouldn't get lost but far enough inland, so they would be protected from the weather, if any storms should come.

In Scott's opinion, it was damn near perfect. He grabbed a stick, and his red handkerchief, planting it in the ground like a flag, so he could remember where it was, and started to head back, but he paused, thinking he heard something...

There was nothing there.

He shook his head, trying not to think about the other night, still praying it was a sleep deprivation induced hallucination of some sort, and not an actual threat to him, or any of his friends.

He was definitely in denial.

he opened his canteen, and sat down by a tree, taking a small rest, before heading back to where ther makeshift tents were set up. he took a long gulp, and rested the back of his head against the tree, and closed his eyes, letting out a contented sigh as the sunlight beat down on his face, filling him with a sense of calm, and warmth, the first time he'd felt calm since they'd woken up here on the island...

Scott must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, he was shooing a squirrel away from him, and his face was now covered by an ominous dark shadow. He squinted, and looked up into the tree.
Sitting, on a branch, directly above him,holding a spear, and you guessed it, wearing a loincloth, and some kind of necklace? Was the same person he saw before, only less shadowy, and more real and right up in his face. Scott, startled, jumped away from the tree and screamed.

He reached for his knife slowly, not breaking eye contact with the figure in the tree. he wasn't sure if he should use it, because If the man meant no harm, he didn't want to scare him, or start an unnecessary fight, but he did want to be prepared, just in case...

The man jumped from the tree, looked directly at Scott, and tilted his head, much like a dog does when it's confused.

Scott's heart was racing, he felt like he was going to pass out, or throw up, or run, but he didn't.

The man looked at the blade in Scott's hand, and nodded once, slowly putting his spear on the ground in front of him. he raised both hands up, showing they were empty, almost as if to say "I come in peace."

Scott put down his knife as well, mimicking his movements carefully, and slowly. his heart beating a mile a minute. 'What the hell is happening' he thought.

The man walked toward Scott slowly, stepping into a beam of sunlight, Scott could get a good look at him now. he was a bit shorter than Scott, but definitely not short short. he had brown hair, that was surprisingly well groomed, and his face was shaven. he was muscular, but not like a body builder, but you could definitely tell he was strong.
They were now merely an arms length apart, Scott was very nervous, he was always nervous meeting new people, and potentially dangerous people were definitely far worse.

"C-can you speak English?" Asked Scott, swallowing.
The man just tilted his head to the side.
"I guess not..."
Scott cautiously put his hand on his own chest
"Scott." he said, trying to communicate.
The other man looked confused. Scott did it again.
"Scott. I am Scott. Scott" he pointed to himself.
Now, he seemed to understand, because he put his own hand on his chest, and said

"Mitch."