Repurposed : The Detritus Wars

CHAPTER 𝐗𝐈

MUFFLED VOICES AND laughter reverberated throughout the forest. Chirping crickets blended with the voices, if not drowning them out in the almost still night, which carried a chilled breeze so gentle that it could barely be detected. The only hint of the gentle breeze existing was the way the tall evergreen trees slowly swayed and quietly creaked at their very tops.

The tranquility was beyond rewarding after a while of searching for the runaway horse, which concluded as a success, though the mare was still rather frightened.

The group of blacksmiths sat around a fire, gathered close together by already - standing tents. Abner seemed to be entertaining them, getting their minds focused on something other than the series of dangerous events they've recently survived.

"Oh please. It's just another ghost story." Aaron scoffed, skeptical of a legend Abner had just mentioned.

"Perhaps," Abner hummed. "But I would take into account the testimonies of those who experienced it firsthand." He rebutted.

"Wait, wait, wait— this is a story I haven't heard." Clyde leaned forward, an expectant gaze directed onto his father.

"Legend, Clyde. Not a story, a legend." Victoria flamboyantly corrected him, which earned her an eye roll.

"Well, I wouldn't mind sharing it with you."

"Please spare us," Aaron teased.

"Ah, well, I guess I should be considerate of poor ol' Emery over there." Abner jested and gave the teenager a pointed glance.

Emery, who had been silently writing in a leather bound journal, glanced up at Abner and feigned a hurt look. "Are you implying that I can't handle a ghost story?"

The whole group laughed, including Abner.

"I— I am so hurt. I can handle listening to a dumb ghost story!"

"Are you sure about that, Em?" Clyde chortled.

"Yes, I'm positive, actually!"

"Then put the book away." Victoria challenged.