(𝓜𝓸𝓷𝓽𝔂 𝔁 𝓜𝓪𝓵𝓮 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻) //🆃🅷🅴 🅺🅸🅻🅻🅸🅽🅶 🅲🆄🆁🆂🅴//

// 🄲🄰🄱🄸🄽 //

//Chapter 15//

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The journey to the cabin was a quiet one, filled with the soothing hum of the truck's engine and the occasional exchange of stories and laughter between you and Monty. The scenery grew more lush and serene with each passing mile, the city's glow fading behind you as the embrace of the countryside grew stronger. As you turned onto the dirt road leading to the cabin, the headlights bobbed over the uneven terrain, casting eerie shadows through the thick canopy of trees. You couldn't remember the last time you felt so at peace.

The truck's headlights swept over the familiar path, illuminating the cabin's weathered wood façade as you pulled into the clearing. A wave of nostalgia washed over you as you stepped out into the cool evening air, the scent of pine and earth greeting you like an old friend. "This is it," you murmured, your voice barely carrying over the soft rustle of leaves.

"Wow, this place is like something out of a storybook," Monty said, his eyes wide as he took in the surroundings. He hopped out of the truck with surprising grace for his size, his booted feet landing with a gentle thud on the packed dirt. "It's so... peaceful."

As you looked at the cabin, the memories of your childhood rushed back to you, each one more vivid than the last. You felt a warmth in your chest, the kind that comes from returning to a place that holds so much of your past. "It's been a while," you said, your voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "But it hasn't changed much."

Monty's eyes followed yours to the cabin, his expression a mix of curiosity and wonder. He reached into the back of the truck, pulling out the first of many boxes with surprising ease. "Let's get started, then," he said, his bass rumble punctuating the quiet night. "Where do you want this?" His tail swished with excitement, the spikes on his wristbands catching the moonlight as he moved. His strength was something to behold, making the daunting task of unloading seem trivial.

"Just set it down by the door for now," you instructed, feeling the weight of the past lift a little with each item you unloaded. The familiar scent of the cabin, a blend of dust and pine, wafted out to greet you as you opened the door. The interior was just as you remembered it, a cozy blend of worn furniture and knick-knacks scaderd around.

"Let's get inside," you said, leading the way into the cabin. The creak of the floorboards beneath your feet was a comforting sound, one that had lulled you to sleep countless times. "We should get dinner going. I know it's late, but I'm starving."

Monty followed you inside, his eyes scanning the cabin with a mix of curiosity and amazement. "This place is incredible," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. "It's like stepping into a piece of your history." He set the box down by the door and looked around the kitchen, his gaze lingering on the ancient stove and the collection of pots and pans hanging from the wooden beams. "What are you making?"

"I was thinking of making some spaghetti," you said, smiling at the thought of a simple, comforting meal. "It's easy and it's one of the few things I know how to cook well." You began rummaging through the cabinets, finding a dusty box of pasta and a jar of sauce that looked like it had been there since your last visit. "You want to help?"

"I'd love to," Monty replied, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of contributing. "I've seen humans cook before, but I've never tried it myself." He approached the kitchen with a swagger, his boots echoing on the wooden floorboards. "What do we do first?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at Monty's enthusiasm. "Well, first we boil the water," you said, pointing to the ancient kettle on the stove. "But let's not burn the place down, okay?" You watched as he grabbed the kettle with surprising gentleness, his massive hands enveloping it entirely.