Rosalind

"You broke my nose," Orlando complains. Somehow, we've made it back to the beach, and we're still alive.

"Your nose isn't broken."

His nose has stopped bleeding, but his eyes are turning black and blue. I decide to keep the information about his black eyes to myself.

"It feels broken," he says. "It feels like my entire face is broken."

"That's your fault," I say, pointing at him. "You tried to kill me."

"I was trying to teach you ...