"Less flexible," Cross mused. "Wonder if that means they'd break." He wasn't keen on his hundred and eighty-five or so pounds crashing through a vine hammock and hitting the ground from God knew how high up. It wasn't because he was afraid of pain but because, well... there was no medical help here. Just a small handful of people out in the woods, like that damned Survivor show except with no cameramen hiding out of sight and no medical team that could rush in if someone fell from a tree and broke their neck. "Be somethin' to do, anyway," he added, continuing to wipe sweat, unperturbed by the heat or the uncertainty of their situation.