You look around the beach, and notice some animal tracks. You'll need fresh water, and if there are people around they won't be far from the water. So figuring that the racoon prints are heading toward the water, you start tracking it along the beach, and then into the jungle. The racoon's tracks are soon joined and mixed with a variety of different hoof, paw, and claw prints. Some are rather big, and you look around nervously as twigs and branches lash at you as you follow the trail.
A particularly vicious leaf shaped like a sword cuts your calf as you pass by. You bend down and lick your hand to wipe the wound. It doesn't look too bad, but it burns like heck. Maybe the plant is poisonous?
You continue your trek, and soon discover something is amiss. Your cargo shorts seem to be getting loose. Perhaps you're dehydrated? You swallow mouthfuls from your canteen. You resume your march, more and more animal tracks now. The stream or lake must be close.
Your cargo shorts drop to your ankles, you trip over them and go sprawling into the bushes kicking off your shoes in the process. Strange you think, as you pick yourself up and tighten your belt, your shoes are still tightly tied how did they both come off? You go to put them back on and realize that they are about two or three sizes too large for you. You stand up, you've shrunk. Your shirt hangs on you like a tent, and your cargo shorts now come down to mid-calf. You curse, and hear your voice cracking like it did when you were fifteen. You were a late bloomer.
Your cargo shorts drop to your ankles again. You punch a new hole in your belt and cinch them around your waist. Your shirt billows more like an oversize jacket than a shirt as you plunge forward. You hope the effects of the plant are temporary, but you pause to reflect on how you might be able to harvest the plant and make a fortune on youth treatments for rich old people. Young and rich, what a wonderful combination, you think. Daydreaming while walking through the jungle may not be the smartest thing, but sixteen year old minds and bodies are wont to daydream.