He had never been what most consider 'open' and, for a long time, Bryce had never truly minded it. But too much time on this island — too much time in one place, period — and everything he had once believed to be true about himself was being quickly redefined. Once a person who never allowed himself to get too close; now a man who mourned the loss of those he held dear through violence directed at an inanimate object.

Under normal circumstances, Bryce never would have considered sharing his thoughts with another living soul. But he had been there when Lucy was at her most vulnerable and now she had appeared, seemingly, to return the favor. He didn't have it in him to keep lying, omitting, avoiding, and while that simple fact was one that both endangered and worried him, right now he couldn't focus enough to care.

"I'm trying to imagine this punching bag as everything I hate about this island," he told Lucy, a short laugh escaping him as soon as he realized how utterly ridiculous it sounded aloud. "It's almost therapeutic, really, when you have enemies with actual faces. Not as easy when you're just envisioning a mass of land."