When Tony limped through the meter-high grass in the middle of nowhere after he accidentally had been pushed from the plane there was just one thought forming in his brain. He didn't care about the rescue-team Gibbs and the other marines had to send out so he would be found before the day draw to a close. After all what could he do about it? He wasn't even in possession of a mobile phone or anything else he could use to inform them where he had landed one or two hours ago.

Well, normally he would care about the rescue-team since he landed miles away from the course and didn't know where he was. But today he wouldn't waste a thought on how he would come out of this one. Anyhow, he still felt that someone would come for him and bring him back to the other marines. And Gibbs, as a matter of course.

But then again he doubted that anyone would find him in the high grass which almost ate him. He couldn't believe that he landed in a place where obviously no-one was in possession of a mowing-machine.
"When was the last time someone mowed this damn place?" With muttering these words he walked further and further just in case he would reach a road anytime soon. He still muttered these words when finally the sun set and he became tired of walking, dozing into sleep and dreaming of mowed grass…