War of words
The last few rays of the sun slipped beneath the horizon, casting the beach in an eerie orange glow. The group huddled around their small fire, the flames flickering weakly in the oncoming darkness.
"I'm so thirsty," Sara groaned, as she took a sip of the last of their water.
Damian chimed in, "And we don't have much food left either. We should have gone with the others to find more supplies."
"But it's more dangerous inside," Lyra argued. "What if they might come to pick us up?"
Damian shook his head, "Lyra, we can't just wait here and hope someone comes to rescue us. We have to face the reality that we're stuck here and we need to do something about it."
Lyra stood up, a fierce determination in her eyes. "And what do you propose we do? Go wandering into the forest and risk our lives like the others?"
"It's better than just sitting here and waiting for our inevitable demise," Damian replied, frustration evident in his voice.