Chapter Text
Shrimpo slapped another mosquito away from his face and dragged his boots through a suspicious pile of mud. "Also? This forest smells like wet socks."
Behind him, Finn wheezed softly, trying to keep up while balancing a tackle box in one hand and a half-crushed water bottle in the other.
"You said you wanted to get out of the tent," Finn reminded him.
"I said I wanted air," Shrimpo snapped. "Not a nature documentary where I'm the tragic protagonist with asthma."
"You have asthma."
"Exactly! It's called character depth."
They paused as a bird screeched in the distance—like it had just witnessed something truly horrifying. Shrimpo stared up at the trees like they had insulted him personally.
Finn, somehow still smiling, gestured ahead with a nod. "It's not far. Just past that rock shaped like a depressed frog."
"That narrows it down to every rock we've passed."
They trudged on in mutual complaint-filled silence. The trail curved slightly, revealing a break in the trees ahead—and through it, the soft shimmer of water.
"There," Finn said, voice quieter now. "That's the lake."
Shrimpo stopped, blinking. "...Huh."
The lake was... not terrible. It was still water, sure. But it had that quiet kind of calm, like it had no interest in being impressive. Just blue and still and there.
"Guess it's fine," Shrimpo muttered. "For a pond with commitment issues."
Finn let out a breathy laugh and walked ahead, already unlatching the tackle box. "You can sit on that log. Don't lick it."
"I wasn't gonna," Shrimpo grumbled, immediately sitting on the log.
They both sat there for a minute. Shrimpo fidgeted. Finn tied some line.
"...So what are the others doing again?" Shrimpo asked.
"Hiking," Finn said. "Or lost. Either way, we're alive."
Shrimpo snorted. "Serves them right. At least we can breathe down here."
Finn smiled. "Barely."