The edge of the campgrounds, early Thursday morning

[blondecanary.livejournal.com]

Dinah had left a message for Priestly, and was now warming up and stretching on the edge of the campground-- and trying not to squee too loudly about the moose. A tiny little stampede of them was rushing across the path.

Maybe they could race them through the preserve? Moose running?



[ooc: for the running partner, but open before he gets here]

The Garden, Thursday Morning

[intraspective]

Ino stretched cheerfully, rolling her shoulders back and casting an appraising eye over her garden. The plants that Dor had planted still got a bit of a dubious look, but they’d been around for a good six months now and hadn’t killed any of hers or anything so she was going to go with, well, now they were all hers.

The few moose that went anywhere near her gardens got the evil eye and firmly rerouted. No moose in her garden, thanks.

She knelt down to expertly tug a weed out of the nearest bed, and settled back on her ankles, twirling the offending bit of greenery around in one hand as she waited. Hmm. Weeding. It was almost summer and summer was always weeding, weeding, weeding.

[Ino is expecting Penelope, but the garden is totally open for any garden~y or Ino~y needs!]

Chester A. Arthur Living Room - Thursday morning

[defeats-buses.livejournal.com]

Prince Edward was seated on the couch, flipping through the channels on the television by way of remote control. The things he's learned since coming to this place. Ahhhh.

But he wasn't in the mood for happy. No, he was not. He woke up in a foul mood and longed for something to hunt. Perhaps Rangering tomorrow would prove worthy. His dark mood will no doubt last till then.

Someone should cook him breakfast, for his stomach would not shut up.


[It's open, of course.]

Millard Fillmore campfire, Thursday lunchtime

[future_sandworm]

The fire was lit, and Leto was heating water for spice coffee while chewing on some bread and dried fruit. It wasn't much of a meal, really, and he did consider finding something more filling in a while. Still, sitting here and watching the flames was comfortable enough, and soon the cinnamon scent of spice mingled with that of coffee, which always reminded him of home.

[open!]

LBJ Campfire, Thursday Night

[likethegun]

Sometime during the day, Sam had come to a sad realization - he hadn't had nearly enough s'mores for the amount of time they'd been out at the cabins. When the evening rolled around and the sun finally went down, he lit the cabin's campfire and set himself up with all the necessary supplies, to cook for himself and for anyone else who sat down.

It wasn't long before he figured out that his marshmallow roasting stick was also good for keeping tiny moose away from the fire. It was kind of amazing how this place still found ways to weird him out, even after all this time.

[Open!]