>>44189
“Uhh, sure! Let’s get a fire going first, though.” you reply, and turn to Ben. “How long does it take to set up that portable pit you brought?” you ask, causing Ben to snort.
“Seconds! I’ll have it started by the time you fish out and put your flute together.” he replies, and gestures back towards the rest of the tents. “I’ll set it up by the pond, if the fire gets outta hand for some reason, we’ll have enough water to handle it.”
“I’ll start looking for sticks and leaves!” Morgan exclaims, her wings buzzing again as she flies deeper into the woods. The rest of your group heads back to the clearing, with Ben disappearing into his tent for a moment, returning with the cooler, along with the collapsible pit and his cajon drum on top. After a few strides and a quick glance around, your friend seemed satisfied with the spot he chose, and began to build the pit. He wasn’t kidding, either, by the time you managed to get your flute case out of your drawstring bag, he had the pit assembled. As it was just five inter-locking vented metal plates, it wasn’t the most difficult thing to put together, but the speed was still impressive.
When your flute was finally ready, Ben had some of the kindling that Morgan was gathering smoldering in the pit, and was beginning to place some of the smaller dried firewood over it. Mara had returned from her tent, bringing a small camping chair and pop-up fabric table with her. Yvonne retrieved her sea bag from where she had left it, rummaging through it quickly to pull out three folding tripod stools. Rochelle moved the wagon closer to the pit, then went around staking a few of the mana torches around the edge of the pond. With not much else to do after that, she decided to simply stand by and admire your flute, a soft smile gracing her features as you play a few scales to warm up. Moments later, with the fire finally burning merrily, Ben cracks the cooler back open.
“Who’s thirsty?! Other than beer, we got Jager and Whiskey!” he asks, then adds. Yvonne was immediately at his side, looking down into the cooler.
“I’ll take a beer. What’s Jager?” the hornet replies. Ben hands her one of the tall red and gold cans, making her eyes widen. “HA! They really
are called ‘Big Friendly’s’!” she exclaims with a grin, popping the can open right away.
“Told ya!” he replies, then pulls out a familiar large square green bottle from the cooler. “
This is Jagermeiester. If you like black licorice, you’ll love this. It’s not as versatile as whiskey, or as strong, but it’s tasty!” He then twists the cap off, cracking open the seal, and lets Yvonne sniff from the bottle. A curious but perplexed look crosses her features.
“Huh. It kinda smells like the jelly sweets my father likes to snack on.” she mutters, as Ben reaches back into the cooler.
“Who else wants a beer?!” he calls out. You hold your hand out, and with practiced ease, Ben immediately tosses a can right into your waiting palm, which you cracked open a second later. “Mara?” The fox shakes her head, and holds up a small plastic water bottle.
“I’m good for now, thank you, though!” she replies, setting the bottle back down on her table. She had that eye-patterned fabric spread across the top, and was in the middle of shuffling a few of her decks.
“I’ll take one!” Morgan shouts over the buzz of her wings, returning from the woods with another armful of kindling. She lands next to the wagon, dropping the bundle and skipping over to the cooler. “Ro, you’re still thirsty, right?” she then shouts over her shoulder. The mosquito in question was still focused on you, and murmured something nearly inaudible. “Ro!! Do you want a beer!” Morgan yelled again, a giggle warbling her sentence slightly. Rochelle’s attention on you breaks for a moment, as she turns to the fly.
“Uhhhhh… yeaaahhh! I could go for one, I’m feeling prettyyyyyy…” the mosquito trails off, her attention turning back to you as you finish your warm up scales. “...
parched.” she finishes, licking her lips. With another giggle, Morgan snags two cans from the cooler, takes two of the stools from Yvonne, and skips back over, handing one of each to Rochelle. Both bugs crack their cans in unison, each taking a few big gulps. With a satisfied sigh, a lazy smile crosses the blonde bug’s face. “Sooooo… what song are you gonna play?~” she asks, setting up her stool to take a seat. You take a sizable glug of your own beer, and place it on the ground near your feet.
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