fandomhighdorms | Main Campfire, Saturday Early Evening

The less said about yesterday, the better. Her headache—how was she to explain that in her next report?—was grateful that she was avoiding thoughts of it. Temporarily. It was bad form to avoid things for long.

Rosalind knew that which was why, she sat herself by a campfire. Back straight, in her uniform, and trying her best not to feel as... severely out of place as she felt. This was not how she preferred to be seen. She was aware of the fact that she had to look ridiculous in her suit (too hot, too stiff, too formal) and sitting by an unlit campfire with a contemplative look on her face as evening slowly fell.

And a bag of marshmallows by her side. They weren't something she was particularly fond of but a few were alright and Rosalind was well aware that other students seemed to flock to them. Perhaps she'd use them as a bribe to get someone else to light the fire? Though she thought that might be ridiculous. It was hot enough without adding extra heat.

Even if it looked rather, well, pretty when it was burning. Mmm. Decisions, decisions.

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"They're cabins," he corrected. "That doesn't count as camping. It's camping for wussies, but I'm glad to hear you've got some general sense for the whole experience."

What snippy tone?

She eyed him dubiously.

"Don't tell me you're one of those people who enjoys camping with little more than a bit of fabric and a stick to prop it up."

Eugh. She'd slept outside before and would likely have to do so again but that absolutely didn't mean she had to enjoy it.

"They actually have a name for that," he pointed out. "It's a tent. And yes, I do think camping has to involve at the most one of those. Cabins or huts? I mean, it's nice and all and you're in the woods, but that's not exactly roughing it."

"Because the school is not cruel enough to do that to its students," she said mildly, not bothering to point out the differences between an actual tent and what Rosalind had said. "If you were so eager, you could always rough it."

He shrugged and picked up a half burned branch from the campfire, his fingers staining black from the ashes. "I have actually. I figure they're less likely to want to kill me for snoring if I sleep outside every few days."

The wolf didn't care where he slept, as long as he slept.

Her eyebrows arched.

"As bad as all that, are you?"

"Worse probably," he laughed. "I don't know. Ask Bod. Me? I fall asleep and I'm out like a light."

"You could record yourself," she answered mildly. "I doubt Bod would be so pleased with a question like that from a stranger."

"Eh, he wouldn't care. He's apparently been spreading my snoring habits," he rolled his eyes and shrugged a shoulder. "I really don't care enough to find out."

"Anyway, I thought you like the whole green thing. How come camping isn't part of that?"

"There is a marked difference from enjoying a park for a few hours and having to camp out for weeks," Rosalind said evenly. "Furthermore, I am uncomfortable with so many people living close by."

"Watch me fail to be surprised," he teased, poking at the rest of the ashes with the stick. "Do you have annoying cabinmates? Are you wishing you'd be sharing with me?"

"I'd rather the room I have in the dorms," she retorted. "Lit the fire or cease playing it it, would you? You're fidgeting."

"But I like playing with it," he said with a mock pout, trying not to crack up.

"That much is obvious," she said, with a sigh.

Then flicked a marshmallow in his direction.

He laughed and caught it easily, popping it instantly into his mouth. "I'm sorry, is my fidgeting bothering you?"

"Dare I answer that question?" she asked wryly. "No matter the answer, I cannot see you stopping."

"Exactly, so there's no harm in answering since it won't change anything," he reasoned.

"Except depriving me the chance to deprive you of an answer, you mean?"

"Oooooh, you're right," he nodded and dropped the stick back on the ashes. "That'd drive me crazy. I'll be tossing and turning the entire night trying to think of what you'd have said."

"I'm sure you will," she said dryly. "The fact remains, I choose not to answer you."

"That's your right," he said easily, thoughtfully rubbing his fingers together and watching how the ash stuck to his skin.

No Jacob, don't even think of it. It won't end well.

Something in his ~~narrative~~ tone had her pausing as she reached for a marshmallow.

"It is. How generous of you to recognize that."

"I am very generous," he nodded and he got to his feet, casually moving to her side of the fire. "Despite how now I'm not going to get any sleep at all because of you."

Rosalind eyed him and kept her peace for the moment.

"Poor you," she answered. "My heart bleeds for you."

"Nah, I don't think it does," he decided. "That's okay."

He actually moved pretty fast considering his bulk, reaching out a hand to try and draw a line of ash across her forehead.

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