Young Writers Society

Schadel nodded.

"That sounds like a good plan to me!" she agreed. She started to head back towards the fire, but came to an abrupt stop when she realized that the nonhuman boy would be completely oblivious about what the human boy had said. She turned around and faced the other shapeshifter, pointing at the human boy as she spoke. "He suggested that we go to the fire!"

He frowned as the boy spoke in chanting-words and the tall one responded in the same tongue. While standing and waiting to have this translated, he followed their line of sight to the hidden area behind some trees where smoke was coming up in columns.

When the older human suggested they go to the fire, he nodded out of habit. Someone had to have made the fire, but it was a mystery to him how it would have had to be contained so as not to set the tall trees aflame.

He cast one last, nervous glance towards the half-naked demon-monster-thing before starting towards the fire. The most immediate concern to him was getting the feeling back into his hands; the fear of dying still hadn't quite left him and he was eager to rid himself of the concern.

Of course, there was still the two strangers, but after he'd gotten over his initial reaction, he realized that his instinct wasn't telling him there was anything off with these two. He was far more concerned with most humans than...whatever the creature was.

He started following the boy, and then immediately let out a garbled scream. Looking down in shock, he lifted a foot to inspect it- a pine cone burr was half-embedded in his bare foot where he had heartily stepped on it. As he attempted to nurse this minor injury, he quickly lost his balance and fell over.

"These feet are not good at walking!" He wailed in distress from the ground, almost afraid to stand once more.

Seven year old Boris heard voices in the distance, so he darted behind a tall stack of firewood, hugged the bag of marshmallows to his chest, and tried to stuff his face without rustling the bag too much.

He didn't know how he ended up this far into the woods, and he didn't get how the fire never seemed to waver in the breeze, but he didn't think about that for very long.
He just wanted to eat as many marshmallows as he could before the owner of this camp site could find him.

James was lost. He'd gone out to the well to get water, but somehow, on his way back, the scenery seemed to change. The sun began to set much faster than he thought it would, and he was getting worried. He hobbled forward with the water bucket in his hands, weaving through the trees until he saw what looked like a tent and a campfire.

What were people doing camping by their farm? Did mom and dad have friends coming to visit? Or were they not friends?

James was cautious as he approached, setting his bucket down behind the tent as he came from behind. He snuck around the side of the tent and looked out at the fire, and from what he could see, there was no-one there. But there was some peculiar kind of food laid out on a little table. He tip-toed over, and grabbed what looked like a bar of something. He sniffed it. It smelled sweet, but he didn't know if it was safe to eat. Would mom be angry if he ate it? He wasn't sure, so he put it down. He wondered if the campers would be back to their camp soon, and maybe he could ask them for directions back home. He was too afraid to run around in the dark... but then he saw something from behind the stack of firewood. He walked slowly as he peeked behind, and saw another boy! He was... stuffing his face with... something?

"Hi," he said quietly. "Is this your camp? What are you eating?"

Boris froze at having been caught, but relaxed when he saw that it was another boy.
Even if he was with whoever who owned this campsite, he'd still be more likely to be friendly than they were.

What language was it that he spoke...English? It was English!
Boris felt proud of himself for recognizing what language it was, until he remembered that he wasn't that good at English.
He puzzled over this for a second, and brushed it off.

Boris dropped the bag, and pulled the other boy down beside him, behind the wood pile.

"Shush." he hissed quietly. "Jemand kommt, du wirst uns erwischen."
(Shush. Somebody's coming, you're going to get us caught.)

His ears perked up as he heard voices somewhat near, despite the demon-thing's spontaneous exclamations. He couldn't make out the words but the accent was still recognizable.

German.

Engel kept walking, figuring that either the creature would catch up or it wouldn't, and found himself stepping into a clearing with a campfire. His eyes widened as he saw the source of warmth, and, with little regard for the presence of the other individuals, beelined to it and stood so close that it looked like he might actually get burned.

He was still on the forest floor, whining softly, when the other boy seemed to hear something and take off. Sucking up his complaints, he tottered to his feet and limped after him, letting out a few yelps now and then when he stepped on more pine needles.

"H- hey! Wait for me!" Though he knew that the other boy couldn't understand him, he yelled to him all the same.

Gasping in relief when the strange shelter was finally visible, he slowed down. His feet were throbbing dully, and he was now in a very bad mood.

"Curse these fleshy stubs!" He roared.

Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he looked back toward where he had come from. The tall human- he had left it behind! What if he didn't know the way? With a weary glance down at his feet, he sighed and approached the fire. The other human had seemed older, so it was probably fine- plus, he wasn't sure that he could have worked up the courage to walk on those painful little tree-babies again.

He was so preoccupied that he almost didn't notice the other small-humans near a pile of tree carcasses. Jumping a little in surprise, he clutched his heart and stared at them wide-eyed, trying to soak in their appearances.

"T- there's more of you!" He stuttered.

The boy was hard to understand. Was he a northerner? He sounded like he was speaking in some other language, and James had heard his dad speak in letteran before, but this wasn't that. But how was he able to understand it?

He let out a little yelp when the boy pulled him down behind the wood, and huddled close to him. Who was coming? Caught for what? James had so many questions. And then the person who was coming found them! But it was just another kid wearing strange clothes. James leaned into the pile of firewood timidly.

"There are more of us?"

"Sieht aus wie." Boris said. (Looks like.)

There wasn't room for three behind the wood. It seemed like there wasn't much point in hiding anymore. So he picked the bag of marshmallows back up, and thrust it into the other boy's hands.

"Ich folgte ihm." He said to the funny kid in the toga.
(I was following him.)

One of the boys talked in English- he was able to pick up on that. However, the other one seemed to also speak in chant-speak... except that he could understand it. It was like listening to a muffled conversation.

"Oh. I see." He replied, wondering why the other boy thought he needed to clarify. "I followed him- kinda." With this, he aimed his finger at the first boy, who was sitting by the fire.

Schadel had managed to get lost.

Well, not really lost. Just sort-of-lost. She had been trying to lead the way to the fire that she had noticed earlier, but suddenly both of the boys had darted ahead and she found herself alone. So she had tried running, too, but she wasn't used to her proportions being like this, so she ended up tripping over a root and falling right into the ground. By the time she had gotten back up, the two were long gone, and it was starting to get dark.

And then she started to cry because it was scary being alone in the dark, even though she knew that she wasn't supposed to get scared so easily. She didn't want to be in these woods. She wanted to be back in the safety of Blanx's house, with her head tucked in between the pages of her book. Then Blanx would come home, and everything would be alright-

No. She was better than this. She had seen far more terrifying things that a dark forest before, and she was supposed to be getting better with the dark, anyways. What kind of thing lurking in darkness could possibly hurt her? Blanx had said that only a grim reaper's weapon could truly cause her body harm, and there was no reason for a grim reaper to ever harm her.

She frantically rubbed her eyes with her bare arm and started heading in the direction she had seen the smoke coming from. As she got closer to where it was - and as her cheeks grew drier, and her eyes less red - she began to make out the sounds of even more people talking. All of them sounded like kids. There was another person speaking in German, and another person was speaking in a language that she didn't recognize.

Schadel stopped on the very edge of the glade like she had before, this time studying the group of people present. Save for the boy from earlier, all of them were humans. She hesitated, then straightened out her tie. Blanx had done that a lot when wearing suits. She brushed off the dirt and twigs from her clothing, too, because that wouldn't really look all that normal to be covered in stuff like that.

She took a deep breath.

And then she emerged into the glade.

James looked around at the three boys with confusion marking his face, but when he saw the adult begin to approach he felt a mix of dread and relief. If they were a nice adult, it would be okay. If they were a mean adult, they could be in trouble. He clutched the bag of the soft, squishy white things that the first boy had been eating and looked up to the new stranger who approached.

"Hi. What is your name, sir? I'm James," He made sure to tack on sir because he heard other adults use it to sound serious. And he wanted to be taken seriously. He was lost, but he didn't want to come off as helpless if they were a mean adult.

Her mind raced. She hadn't thought that far! Schadel wasn't exactly a normal human name, and she really didn't have a name for this particular appearance. She kept trying to come up with something that wouldn't be a super obvious put-together-last-minute name, but her mind kept returning to the book she had been reading.

"John," she blurted, panicking. "My name is John Watson."