Rutherford B. Hayes Campfire, Sunday Morning

[endsthegame]

There had been a lot of parties on the island over the week. Ender hadn't visited any of them, as per expectations. But morning found him out by the campfire again, this time armed with a bag of marshmallows which he set aside.

Calmly, he poked the fire into action, spark into flame, and sat back to watch it dance. He draped one arm over his knee, made himself comfortable.

And waited to see if anything would happen.

He had all the time in the world. In one manner of speaking.

[ open campfire! ]