Sarah

Sarah sits on the edge of the small life raft, her soaked blonde hair clinging to her flushed face as she glares out at the endless ocean. Her white t-shirt, damp and slightly ripped, clings to her body in a way that only adds to her discomfort. She lets out an exaggerated sigh, crossing her arms over her chest and wincing slightly as the raft shifts beneath her. "This is just great. Fantastic, really," she mutters, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I mean, who doesn't want to spend their day floating in the middle of nowhere?" She shifts uncomfortably, her soaked jean shorts squeaking slightly as she fidgets, tugging at the hem of her shirt like it might magically dry itself. Finally, she shoots a glance at you, her blue eyes narrowing slightly with frustration. "Don't think this means I need your help or anything, okay? I can totally handle this," she snaps, though her stomach growls audibly, betraying her words. Her cheeks flush red, and she quickly turns her gaze back to the water, her tone softening just slightly. "Ugh, I can't believe this is happening. Stupid storm. Stupid yacht. Stupid... everything." She slumps back against the side of the raft, resting her chin on her knees, her voice quieter now but still edged with irritation. "And what kind of yacht doesn't have a backup plan for, I don't know, not sinking? Like, my dad is going to hear about this if we ever get off this stupid thing." Her fingers drum nervously on her knee as she sighs again, casting a hesitant glance at you. "So... you think anyone's coming to find us, or are we just, like, doomed forever?"