You know what? She has had a day, she can check out the spooky rock and ruins later.

She keeps heading up the coast looking for a river mouth, at least until she gets too tired to continue on her stubby child legs or until she doesn’t think she would be able to walk back to the boat before dark if she didn't turn around.

Not too long after that, there's the mouth of a little creek! Calling it even a creek might be generous. Barely a few inches of water trickle gently over the pebbles, soaking into the sand before it actually reaches ocean.

Well, maybe there will be a bit more water upstream? And the chance of it being brackish will be lower. She will spend up to half an hour going upstream looking for a bit thats deeper or faster flowing. Fast water is supposed to be safer right?

Going away from the open sight-lines of the beach is a little scary but shes almost invisible and has an axe.

Her horns will vaguely tingle if the river flows from a jungle or forest as she walks upstream and she is surrounded by life, and jolt if any large animal comes near.

The tiny stream gets a bit wider for a short while upriver, though it doesn't really get clearer. Prickly ferns and sticky vines crowd around the intermittent source of water, roots covetously clinging. There's a fairly deep muddy rocky furrow, as if it's sometimes much wetter than this, though the actual stream gets faster and a bit deeper in places it never amounts to an especially impressive stream.

There are a few faint jolts corresponding to crabs or birds, and one coming from a particular weird-looking tree with a thick tangle of branches, as if something big is hiding in it. It's starting to get close-ish to sunset, too.

She’s pretty thirsty… She will just have to risk horrible gut poisoning, if she doesn't drink now she might not have the strength to look for a better water source tomorrow.

She leans down and drinks as much as she can fit in her stomach, until it hurts. If nothing happens while she drinks then she will go back down stream and walk home, while being a little worried about how dark it is getting.

There's a loud shriek or roar of some kind in the distance, and the wind picks up a bit as the air cools from 'unpleasantly hot' to 'actually kind of nice'. Other than that, nothing especially interesting happens. The seagulls appear to be mostly gone at this time of day, and the boat remains the same as it was when she left it.

Spooky roars are NOT GOOD, She hurries back onto the boat and into the cabin.

She hasn’t thrown up any water so far, so that was a good sign, she doesn’t even feel queasy or anything. But all this adventuring she did today was exhausting.

She doesn’t even bother to put her clothes back on before she hops onto the bed. A bed with actual sheets is much nicer than sleeping under the bed, or passing out being held up by tentacles. She is tired enough that the definite tilt to her sleeping surface doesn't even interfere with falling asleep. 

Zzzzzzz

She wakes up to loud gulls again. Those dirty sky rats! And the sound of rain.

The water still hasn’t ruined her insides! Seems like she found a relatively safe source of water! Even if it is a bit far away. Things are looking up. She is a little hungry though…. Maybe she could kill and eat a gull, that thought was more spite than anything, because she doubts they are very good food.

Maybe this morning would be a good time to test out the magic bag stuff, and then afternoon can be a casual look for food. She’s hungry but not extremely hungry, from her previous experience, day 3 of no food is when she has to actually start getting worried. Water she can get from the rain the filling up depressions on the boat, it should be safe if its just water from last night.

She takes the bag and drags it onto the beach, and takes out some things to test.

She has the bigger gun out, she can barely keep it upright, she has it pointed at a concentration of the gulls.

TAKE THAT YOU FUCKERS!

She pulls the trigger.

For a moment, everything is searingly bright. There is a wave of heat from the front and a sharp BANG. She probably drops the gun - out of surprise if not recoil.

When her vision clears and her ears stop ringing, there is a long charred mark along the beach, terminating in a wide cone of black marks near where the seagulls previously were. There don't appear to be any seagulls there any more. Or seagull bodies. Oh, wait, there's one, a good twenty feet away from the cluster she aimed at. The rest are all flying away, honking and screeching.