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She simply smiled in response to his pitiful looks, somehow finding immense pleasure in just how horrified and pathetic he looked. Giving her spear a slight twirl as Rora left, the teen grinned even wider. "Oh I will, I live for these kinds of things... Have fun with Rora."

Oh sweet sweet inadvertant revenge.

For all of Sim's foolish antics, his attempt at swimming had to be the worst, and by worst it meant he appeared even more pathetic than he had hoped to look. His clothes were bogging him down in spite of the lifejacket, but his grip on his belongings was so tight his knuckles whitened from the lack of blood.

Finally he dragged himself onto shore, sputtering and coughing water out of his mouth. Exhausted, he allowed himself to collapse onto the sand, he'd worry about getting the water and random particles out of his sopping wet (practically ruined) feather boa later. He arrived just as Zanna left, inwardly quirking a brow at the Amazon's independence.

"Well bully for her!" he remarked brightly before peering back to the waters to see if the others needed help. Not that he'd be much of help, but he could attempt to lengthen his sleeves for the others to grab ahold of. But until one of them actually screamed for aid, he'd rest.

Oh how he hated nature.

Aurora saw the look on Ronin's face, and caught on quickly, knowing that being the youngest probably was pretty embarrassing. And the reason Rora had swum out in the first place was because it was either this, or standing next to Ura.

It was pretty obvious which one she'd pick. She paused near Ronin to call, "Seen Kami or Sarria?"

Still, she couldn't help but be worried for him. He was smaller!

Finally, Sim had managed to gather his strength back and without so much as batting an eye he began to undress. He wouldn't be in his birthday suit, that much was certain, but he did wish to get himself out of his wet clothings. He stripped down to his plain white undergarments, which in their own way was rather shocking given that this was Sim wearing them.

He trodded off to where Ura was, "Would you know how to start a fire? I truly require dry clothes and I believe everyone else would want some means of warming themselves up after that horrendous almost traumatizing ordeal."

He didn't seem bothered that there were members of the opposite sex around to see him in his unmentionables, he was more concerned taht his clothes were waterlogged. And speaking of waterlogged it took a while for him to realize he had things made of paper in his handcarry bag.

"MY SKETCHES!!!!" he suddenly shrieked and dashed off to his sopped canary yellow bag.

As Sim threw his bag open, he dug around to look for his journal and the small screaming neon orange notebook he brought along.

"Ruined!! Ruined!!! It's all ruined!!!" he wailed, his journal was relatively intact as are the entries he made in them. But his miniature notebook on the other hand was beyond recognition aside from the cover. The inks had smeared and blurred together to form abstract patterns that were once sketch ideas for clothes.

He sobbed in pitiful mourning for his loss. For all of five seconds before he casually called to Ura, "Oh Shii, you can use this piece of trash for the fire later." And he tossed the wet notebook towards the other companion, though it was a good distance away from the other red haired teen.

"What else has been ruined I wonder," Sim sighed as he continued to dig through his bag. All the miniature clothings were wet, and he feared his suit was not meant to be washed in cold water. Or that if it was to be washed at all. He did not remove them though, choosing to keep his shrunken clothes a secret until he really would need to enlarge them again.

Only when things got desperate. Like if they were to be rescued by other people, Sim was not about to be seen in the horridly plain black flannel outfit he washed up in.

Zanna hadn't left entirely yet, instead walking up to the edge of the beach and along the 'jungle' outskirts until she found a clear 'path', or rather a less obstructed starting point. She kept that in mind as she looked up at the sky to gauge the time of day, eyes travelling to watch the Sim run around in nothing but some white underwear. WET white underwear to be exact.

Now that was something she did NOT care to view in her lifetime.

Cringing openly, the teen mutter something under her breath before disappearing off into the chosen edge she had found, though she was on the beach long enough for anyone to have spotted her if they had looked hard enough from the sky or the ground.

A pair of tracks led into the forest, but that was all that was left of her, the Simu having disappeared into the jungle. Using natural instinct on reading the land as well as her gut feeling, Zanna managed to track down a fresh water source close to the mountain, quite secluded and hard to navigate to if one didn't either follow the teen closely, or was skilled in tracking.

First things first, she had to get the salt out of her clothes, had it been later than she would have started on the shelter first, but she wanted some dry clothes for later in case it got colder. Wading into the shallow end of the clear pool, the Amazon pulled out each article of clothing one by one and rinsed it through the salt-free water. Afterwards, she wrung them out and then hung each piece over a few of the lower branches so the wind wouldn't blow them off during the time which she built a shelter of sorts. It would be makeshift for now and be improved on the next day.

Finding a sturdy and old tree, the teen expertly and quickly climbed and shimmied up a good ways, cutting small branches with her knife when needed. Using the rope she had taken earlier, Zanna fashioned a sort of 'pulley' system so that she could get various building materials up in her chosen area.

The spot that she had chosen would have made for a perfect treehouse, and was high enough that none but the expert climber or one with wings could reach. Though the latter would have a hard time unless they were particularly good at flying and weaving through branches.

Making her way back down, the teen first gathered some rather large bamboo stalks that had taken a bit of hunting to eventually find, stripped them with her knife, and then tied them all to the ground end of her 'pulley'. Next she climbed back up, pulled up the 'floor pieces' and with her natural dexterity and a lot of physical labor, she managed to build herself a makeshift floor out of rope she had made by weaving the bamboo leaves into rope a la "Cast Away" style.

All of this was time consuming and Zanna was up well into dark, and when she was finally finished, the teen climbed down and gathered her now dry bag and her clothing, climbing back up to the 'treehouse' and laying out the towel she had stolen from the cruise ship over the leftover bamboo leaves as well as several that she had taken from the tree she was in.

Tomorrow she'd fix everything up, go hunting, and shower, but right now she was too tired and it was too late, as well as being too dark. Somehow she had known just what to do, and just how to survive without too much help from books and the Discovery Channel.

Sighing, the teen layed back and looked up at the stars she could partially see through the tree's branches and leaves, mind drifting off to one person in particular several times before falling asleep.

Somehow she couldn't help but blame herself. Over, and over again for what she presumed had been his death. They HAD left him on a sinking ship, and those wings couldn't have been helpful with sharks abound and soaked to the core from the swells.

Though the nagging, near silent voice told her another story, but unfortunately sleep found her before her instinct of him had and she fell asleep before the reassuring hope came.

Urahara frowned when he returned, arm full of long branches and a few pieces of dried palm. So, Zanna was serious, she had left them to go survive on her own. Dammit, he really was going to be stuck with Rora. He couldn't help but let out a small grumble of disappointment.

But, thankfully there was a distraction from letting his mind rant about the whole thing. All in the form of a really really long... scarf? The teen suddenly stopped and raised an eyebrow, staring at the longated piece of fabric. Where the hell did this come from? His eyes darted across it, from where it was tied to the tree and then out to sea. Okay, he kind of understood what it was supposed to do, but ... where the hell did it come from? It was then he noticed the slumped over form of Sim, mumbling into the sand.

Urahara shifted the branches in his arms, grumbling under his breath, and stalked forward towards the other red head. "Oi," Pause for name searching, "Sim... you okay?" He called to the other teen when in range. He probably was, but it was hard to tell.