There was no time for hesitation.
Not that I wanted to hesitate. The strange snapping of my senses had completely obliterated even the idea of fear. All I felt was the rush of the wind buffeting my clothes and blowing my hair back from my face. For a few precious seconds, I felt more alive then I ever had before, relishing the rush of information to my brain.
         And then I hit the ground. Or, should I say, the water.
         For the second time in three days, I landed in cold water, which immediately knocked me out of the sensual high I was feeling. Wasting no time, I kicked up towards the surface, head emerging in no time. After I had caught my breath again, I surveyed my surroundings.
         I had landed in a narrow lake, surrounded on all sides by trees. Looking up, I saw the bridge I had fallen off of, and the tail end of the train as it continued down the tracks. I guessed I had fallen roughly 19 meters, which is equivalent to around 62 feet. Started, I realized I was closer to the shore then was comfortable. If I had waiting even a few more seconds to jump, then I would have became a human pancake against the bottom of the lake.
           Treading water, I searched for Riff, hoping he had made it into the water as well. At first, I couldn't find him, and panic started edging my vision. Then, about 10 meters away, I saw splashing water and the occasional arm or head popping up. Riff swam as well as a Olympic swimmer, even with the backpack containing our supplies strapped to his back. Relief spread through me, freezing my limbs for a second. My head dipped under water again before my legs resumed their motion, which served as a well needed reminder that I'm not that good of a swimmer. Leaving Riff to his Olympic swimming, I started for shore as well, with much less graceful strokes. In fact, as I started for shore, my shoulder started screaming itself known again. Each motion shot daggers of pain throughout my entire body, and after only a few feet, I stopped using my arm and continued one handed. The only thing that brought me relief was the knowledge that I couldn't have dislocated my shoulder or else the pain would be worse.
         Five minutes later, breath shuddering and chest heaving, I finally dragged myself on to the shore. I lay in the dirt for a few seconds, allowing my body to rest and trying not to move my arm. My moments of rejuvenation were interrupted early, though, as a pair of twin white boots stepped into my view.
         Riff had passed me a couple minutes before and had been waiting on the shore as made my slow way over. Now, as I switched to laying on my back, I saw that he was now standing over me with his arms crossed over his chest. And he looked extremely pissed.
         Slowly, using my good arm, I pushed myself up into a seated position, then to my feet, ready for whatever onslaught he had planned. Riff waited until I had gotten my feet beneath me, his arms still crossed. Sighing, I looked him in the eye and asked, "What is it?"
         "What is it?" He mocked, his lips turned down into a scowl. "Do you have no ideas of self-preservation?"
         "Yeah, well, I would say I have been doing pretty well in that department for the last couple years." My words didn't have any kick to them, just resignation. I was far to tired and battered to argue. Not to mention, I was feeling a strange drawback in my senses, as if the over extrovertion of a few minutes ago had left them feeling dry.
         Though that statement seemed to take the edge off his anger, he was still mad. He grabbed my arm in a motion that I could tell wasn't supposed to hurt, but unfortunately, he had grabbed my injured arm so it did. I whimpered as another spike of pain shot through me. He immediately let go, his eyes switching from angry to concerned in a heartbeat. "What's wrong?"
         "It's nothing," I gritted out through my teeth. "Just some shoulder pain."
         He obviously didn't believe me, and stepped closer, reaching for my arm. Before he touched it, though, he paused, his eyes flashing up to mine as if asking for permission. I nodded once, and he gently took my arm, rotating it slightly and judging my reaction. I sucked air in through my teeth. Yeah, it hurt, but it wasn't the worst pain I've felt, and I knew it wouldn't be the last either.
         "Can you remove your jacket by yourself or do you need me to help?" I was slightly off put by how gentle his voice was, the most gentle I had ever heard it.
         I shook my head. "I think I can manage." And I did, though it took some shuffling and awkward bending of my other limbs. When my jacket was off, Riff rolled my sleeve up to further access the damage.
         "Ouch," I said when I saw the injury. It was a bruise about the size of my fist, though there was no blood and broken bones, thank goodness. As I had thought before, the shoulder hadn't been dislocated, but there was a far amount of swelling, which could mean that a ligament had been pulled or stretched. "At least the shoulder isn't dislocated, right?"
         He shot me an unamused glance, and I'll admit, that was a pretty lame attempt to defuse the tension. Once he had examined me a little longer and determined that my arm wasn't going to fall off, he stepped back. "You're lucky."
         I could agree with that. I was lucky that my shoulder wasn't worse, lucky that I hadn't jumped two seconds later and pancaked. In fact, I seemed to be very lucky now-a-days, which was actually a relief compared to my past experience with luck, or lack thereof. But I couldn't help feeling like my luck was soon to run out.
         "Why didn't you jump with me?" He asked. I could see this was what had been bothering him. Apparently, he thought that I had chickened out of jumping at the last second.
         "Wasn't my fault. The guy broke through the door and grabbed me before I could," I huffed out as I was putting my soaking jacket back on. Riff was silent, and when I looked back at him I could see the apology in his eyes, even if he refused to say it out loud. I shook my head, telling him to forget about it without actually saying anything. "Anyway, what are we going to do now?"
         He shrugged. "Follow the tracks, I guess. They should eventually lead to a town, where we may be able to restock."
         Oh yeah. The abundance of fruit from last night had almost made me forget that we didn't have very much food. A pang of sorrow went through me at the idea of having to go back to eating dry nuts, but I knew food was food and that I have no room to feel sorry.
         "Also, we should probably get out of these wet clothes whenever we can, so keep a lookout for any houses," Riff added, and without another word, he set off into the woods.
          Signing with resignation, I followed.