Roliath
The constant fluctuations in temperature were something Emilio found himself having to quickly adjust to, which he did–however, the same couldn't be said for his heavily-armored friend.
"H-hey…is it just me, or is it hot? Like…really hot?" Everett asked, walking with slumped shoulders with his tongue out, panting like a dog.
Without the constant veil of the trees to block out the sun, its natural warmth beaded down on the three men in its full glory. Across the shoreline, the sand itself felt like hot coals, only somewhat dwindled by footwear.
Maverick laughed, holding his arms out as if welcoming the sun's grace, "This is the perfect temperature, what do you mean?! Look at the natural tan I've built up!"
Flexing his muscles, the bearded man laughed as he showed off more than just his tan, though neither of the young men were impressed in the slightest. As they followed the man stranded on the unforgiving island, there wasn't much to do but carefully observe the scenery.