The island's gone back to normal, so now feels as perfect a time as any to catch up on what he's been missing - namely, exercise. The skiffs are still a work-in-progress, their functionality halted by the change in the weather and the way it had prohibited any actual work. It's hard to fix and repair when one's tools have literally relegated to their almost pre-industrial counterparts. In the meantime, since he arrived too late to sign up for any fitness classes, he sticks to the routine of running, taking a long loop around the island and trying to stick to it in the mornings, before most of the island's residents are even awake. It gives him time to think, mostly.

He gets somewhat of a later start today, but that doesn't deter him in the slightest as he digs through his pile of dirty laundry for a t-shirt to wear and ultimately winds up swiping something from Cam's wardrobe. He's out the door and running before his brother can even see or protest, really, and once he gets into a rhythm, his thoughts start to wander, his feet moving by reflex and propelling him forward, the only sound being the noises of the island alongside his own breath.

He hasn't spoken to Caroline since the New Year's Eve party. It isn't that he's avoiding her, but more that he's avoiding the situation of coming to a decision, because while he wants to move forward, he isn't certain if it would feel as though he's moving too quickly for her. This is something - she's someone - he wants to handle with care, and maybe his thoughts are carrying him in the right direction all along, but he almost bumps into someone without realizing it.

"Oh, jeez - sorry, so sorry," he starts, before he gets a look at the face attached and almost goes white while he tries to catch his breath. "Caroline. Hi."

To say Tyler's surprised when he wakes up the first day of December and sees snow falling outside the hut is something of an understatement - and while his brother assures him that this is fairly low-grade in terms of island-related changes going on, even he can't deny that the sight of the island transformed into what could only be described as Dickensian-era London falls under a completely new category of strange. It isn't just the exterior that's different, either - every article of clothing they own is changed into fashions appropriate for the era, and the hut itself is an exact replica of a home of a similar century. Tyler resigns himself to the fact that unless he wants to go out in nothing but a nightshirt, he's going to have to settle for what the island has given him. Remarkably, everything fits, so he settles for the jacket and waistcoat, the button-down shirt and the trousers, and the knee-high boots, immediately discarding anything too loud or involving frills. Cam can sort out his own situation later.

For a little while, he just decides to explore his new surroundings, having every intention of making his way back to what they can now officially call a house once he's walked down several city blocks and back. There's vendors out pushing carts from the sounds of it, but it's a noise that tends to stick to his periphery when he turns to look straight at it. There are people walking around - some faces he recognizes, others he doesn't - most of whom look just as uncomfortable as he feels in the strange clothes, but some appearing oddly content despite the change.

The benefit of being tall makes it possible for him to recognize familiar faces from a longer distance, although he spots the blonde hair shortly before he finally catches a glimpse of the face beneath them, making his way down the sidewalk through puddles of slush and around patches of black ice until he can finally stop in front of her, breath visible in the air as he speaks. "I thought that was you."