quickdillpickle
May 12th, 2013. After a miserably drowsy winter of sludge and snowed-in mornings, 19-year-old Jack Nelson is more than ready to reclaim his gig as a Forest Fire Lookout.
He settled into his threadbare RV and headed towards his new outpost. The smell of Douglas Fir and tree sap was almost relieving as he drove through the woods. It was a scent he'd grown accustomed to, having grown up in the Sun's warm rays.
That same homely feeling persisted when he finally set foot into his cabin, or in other words, his home for the next two months.
Jack was no stranger to paranoia, but the whistles he swore to hear at night were more than unsettling.
Unbeknownst to him, an eldritch presence wandered the forest.
Something disturbed.
Something inhuman.