They had been here for a month now. Paradise. What a klunky name to give a place that is anything but.
In the first few weeks they had sewn seeds and gathered wood, they'd made makeshift tools and gathered water from the lake. They had started rebuilding what they once had back in the glade.
Only now things were different; they were not searching for a way out because they were not trapped. The trials were over, no more W.I.C.K.E.D, no more anything.
Minho had assigned ranks, trying to establish some kind of order. He knew of someone who could do a better job at this, but he never dwelled on the thought for too long.
There were builders, medjacks and farm hands.. the rest just helped out when they could; carrying in the log woods, or washing dirty clothes.
It was the day that marked the first month that brought the change.
