Night Owls and Summer Skies [Formerly Camp Mapplewood]

Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

I managed to escape the tool shed and meandered around what looked like a deserted camp, in search of some sign of life. There was no one around. All that signaled that there was anyone residing on the campsite, was the multitude of footprints mixed in with the gravel. Eventually, searching for people bored me, so I headed to the check-in point and grabbed the rest of my luggage.

There was something that made my head shift awkwardly as I walked, a prickling sensation appeared at the base of my neck. Whenever that popped up, it was best to leave the area. Often, danger lurked when that shiver appeared, even in the smallest of forms, like me tripping over a rock.

I found myself glancing around, trying my best to look as casual as possible. I met the eyes of a few strangers, looking worn out and fixated on what appeared to be a stage, through a window of a random building. It made being trapped in a small space for an extended amount of time, the shed was more appealing than listening to whatever garbage that spilled from that room.

I slid into the cabin, after looking for it for thirty minutes because I forgot what number belonged to the Beavers.

"Here, let me help you with that," a chirpy-sounding girl said behind me, making me jump.

"I think I can—nope. It's an impossible feat. Thank you." When I turned around, I was faced with the frailest-looking pixie, with short spiky hair. "Oh."

"Oh?" she mimicked, eyebrows furrowed.

She looked up at me quizzically, but the playful tilt of her head made me roll my eyes. "Yes, oh. I might be the least athletically-inclined person to ever exist, but even I could flick you away with my thumb."

"I'm sensing a challenge."

I looked at the bag, then to her. "Well, are you considering accepting?"

She grinned and chirped, "Yup."

I didn't automatically hand her the bag. "Are you sure?"

The girl snatched the bag from my grasp and held it easily like it weighed nothing at all. Maybe that left my mouth gaping open. But then, the tiny girl leaped up into the air just to place the bag into the compartment above my bed, then back down with the widest grin that I've ever encountered.

She reached forward and skimmed a finger beneath my chin, prompting me to pick my jaw up from the ground. "You might want to sit down," she suggested, amusement obvious, "people tend to get tetchy when standing. And we can't have that grouchiness during our first impression stages."

"And after we've gone through that hell?"

"Be your typical grouchy self." At the expression of confusion that crossed my face, she shrugged. "You have that look about you, you know? That aura. I dig it."