"Mm…" Jack considered the options. “‘Suppose you’re right. And with only the two of us, we’ll be more quiet and more likely to get something, right? So—" he stood up again, pacing across the hot sand. “So we’ll do that."
"Good," Roger said, getting to his feet, picking up his spear as he did so. He started walking, looking back to make sure Jack followed.
Following suit, Jack puffed out his chest and sped up to lead the way toward the beach. “I hope I’m not wasting my time.” he groused, pushing his too-long hair out of his eyes with a free hand. He slowed to allow Roger to walk beside him.
"I hope not, too," Roger mumbled, catching up to Jack and falling into step beside him. He looked around him, scanning for signs of movement. He secretly hoped he wouldn’t disappoint Jack.
The freckled boy fell silent, rolling his bony and sunburnt shoulders to relieve the muscle tension in them. He glanced around himself, debating whether to let Roger have the glory of spotting the first prey or using it for his own ego. He decided to at least give his friend the chance. “Hear anything?” he whispered.
Roger listened keenly, stopping for a moment. His eyes swept the surrounding area of jungle. He heard a sort of snapping sound, like underbrush being crushed beneath feet. He nodded, and pointed a bit to the right of them. “Over that way.”
