Ray W. Graves

Ray’s not that popular but maybe Will Wood will bring in more people lmao.

I finished this in liiiikee.. a day… and then forgot to post it… > 3 •

She greeted a fellow Mother, her smile just twitching when the madame pronounced her name wrong.

She had given up on correcting people long ago, already feeling fatigue from having to watch all those people tumble and slip up with it.

She then noticed a burly man dragging a little boy down to the camp grounds. She didn't recall meeting the man before nor the little boy before, so she was already brushing off her dress and walking towards them with a smile.

"Bonjour monsieur! It's quite lovely to see new faces around here. Is your boy joining this group as well? It's such a wonderful thing to see kids interested in participating in this!"

The man looked up as he was approached, offering a small smile as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well hello there, ma’am. Yeah, my son’s gonna give it a go. I’m on a little, uh, work trip, so I figured I wouldn’t bore him with my business.” He ruffled his son’s hair as he said that last bit. His accent sharply contrasted hers, one that could be identified as Southern from the U.S.

He turned to his son and moved his hand to his shoulder as he added, “Ray, why don’t you go on and run ahead. Make sure you talk to the other boys, y’hear? No point avoidin’ it if you wanna have fun.”

The kid—Ray—nodded and gave him a hug before walking off to join the other boys. His father watched him go for a moment before turning back to Catherine.

"Oh that is just swell! I do hope your stay here is mighty fine. You'll love it here. The thick forests, the homey small smalls on the way and you can't forget about the maple candies here."

"Well, Daniel, you may call me Cathy. If you would like, I could show your little Raymond around the camp grounds. My son goes here as well so perhaps I'll introduce him."

He raised an eyebrow in response to the information on Catherine’s husband.

“Military, eh? I bet he is proud. Maybe I’ll give it a few years before I join again. I used to be in it and all. Gotta give Ray a couple years to grow up though, y’know? He’s…” he shrugged and trailed off, glancing back at Ray. The kid was sort of hanging off to the side of the group of boys.

She caught the kid awkwardly shuffling around a grand oak, its branches outstretched to the sky as sunlight seeped through its leaves and branches.

She smiled, chuckling when she knelt down, her dress sweeping over dirt and grass. Her warm benevolent brown eyes melted in Ray's as she tilted her head. "Well hello, miel. How are you over here? Is the oak giving you company?"

Her teasing was light and sympathetic, before her hands reached out to adjust Ray's collar and sash and patches.

“I’m uh… I’m fine.” He looked up at the towering oak tree, then back at the woman. “I suppose it is. They tend to be good company. Nature and all.”

His accent was a little softer than his father’s, his words flowing together a bit neater. He was quieter though, as his father had said.

He liked the way the branches stretched up and outward, like they were trying to soak up every bit of sun possible. He wondered if he could climb it…

Ray wrapped a strand of hair around his finger as he spoke, twisting it around tight almost to the point of knotting it. He didn’t seem too consciously aware of it, like it was a fidget of sorts.

"I'm the bossy one's mother. Don't let his fierceness drive you away, darling. He's my sweet sparrow, after all. And I know that he'll probably take you under his wing."

She glanced at the chattering group of kids behind them, the young boys rough housing and never being mindful of their volume, butchering each other's conversations.

"Seems that he isn't sulking around, oh my. Well, mon ami, would you like to help poor me hunt for him?"

“Uhm… I’m not real sure how much more clueless you are than me, ma’am,” Ray said anxiously, “I’m awfully lost myself…”

He’d successfully tied a small knot into his hair by now, and he just fidgeted with that instead. His gaze had traveled to the rest of the Scouts as he watched a few of them, who’d become fascinated with killing a bug on the ground.

“I don’t know any of the other guys…”

The concept of joining a new group where everyone knew each other sounded like hell, not that he wanted to tell his dad that because this was the only option, and his parents had always encouraged him to socialize.

"Ah, quiet and bashful, aren't you? How endearing," she said with a sweet lilt in her voice. Her voice was accented and light, her voice seemed warm and feather light forever and always.

Her hand gently reached the boy's and put a pause on the twirling finger. She calmly made him unravel the strand of hair, freeing his finger and instead gave him a small piece of paper.

"Sometimes I like to fold this into little shapes or animals, or just play with it. Better than putting strain in that pretty hair of yours."

She straightened herself once more and motioned for the boy to follow him, her eyes slightly brighter in the sunlight, but still warm.

But she seemed nice enough… Mothers weren’t usually a threat, right?

He followed the woman away from the big oak tree, holding the paper in his pale hands. He’d started folding it into small triangles as they walked. It didn’t have the same feel as playing with his hair, but it worked.

“Are the guys here nice?” He asked, looking up at the Catherine. “I don’t want any trouble.”

He had some trouble with his other troop, and the last thing he wanted was to be picked on during some trip he didn’t even want to go on.

"I haven't met them all, but I'm sure they'll see your values," she answered bluntly.

The thickets around them were lush with all sorts of blooming colours while sunlight happened to seep through the variety of pine trees. Catherine could be seen glancing around, surveying the trail in hopes of seeing even a glimpse of her son.

She glanced down at Ray, "I have hopes you'll fit in well enough. Besides, it's only for this summer."

"You may call me Cathy, by the way."

Catherine snapped her head up when she heard some sort of rattling noise. She exhaled sharply through her nose, a hand on her forehead.

In fact, he could feel a flicker of dread in his stomach. He found himself regretting asking the question in the first place.

“Ah, I’m… I’m sure I will,” he mumbled, crumpling the paper slightly. He was quick to smooth it out again and keep folding it. No one ever saw his damn values, what was she talking about?

He looked up at the noise as well, folding the paper a few more times. A fence? Climbing a fence. Alright then. Now his hopes were really low.

“Maybe you should go check,” Ray offered blandly as he looked back up at Cathy. “‘Specially if this is a reoccurrence.”

He was losing the will to talk again and the paper was getting too small to fold. The woman seemed nice, but she was still some adult, and that seemed far off from an actual friend, especially if she was a parent.

She marched over to the fence, a moving figure already coming into view as the trees were now having some distance between each other.

The figure happened to a young boy. His scout uniform was smooth, but dishevelled and dirty. One knee had a bandage while one knuckles had a bandage as well. The hat the boy was wearing was teetering at the edge of his scalp, threatening to fall off.

The boy gave his mother a quick glance, before scrambling to hop the fence, causing Cathy to already be on the move. She argued and scolded the boy in French, while the boy was already spitting back at her.

Cathy awkwardly glanced back at Ray, tugging her son off the fence and making him jump off. "Ray, this is Hudson."

“Nice t’meet you,” he said as he pocketed the folded paper. “I’ll try not t’a bother you too much.”

He offered the boy—who looked older than him, Ray thought, though he figured it wasn’t by much—a small smile that he hoped looked pleasant and not utterly awkward and miserable.

He didn’t move as close to the fence as Cathy had done, standing a yard or two away from the two of them.

“How is my first impression?” Ray asked as his eyes drifted up to the boy’s skewed hat. He reached up and pushed it back into place, mouthing the word, “sorry”.

He couldn’t really tell if the Hudson was judging him (it sort of felt like he was) and despite the fact that Ray had just met him, he felt the need to not disappoint.

“…Sorry your mom dumped me on you, by the way,” he added in a mumble as his dark eyes flickered up to meet Hudson’s before looking away again.

"Your first impression is that you're asking to get bullied. Stand up straighter, goodness."

Hudson folded his arms, tilting his head as he watched Ray twirl his hair. "Whatever. You're not the first kid my Mere shoved towards me. And you probably won't be the last, knowing her."

He brushed the dirt off his knees and stood up, back tall and shoulders squared. "I wouldn't do that in front of the other guys. They'll probably call you a girl."

His hard glare slowly melted into something more...warmer. Still intense, but no longer icy. He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ahem. Sorry. Sometimes I forget that no ones around and I don't need to act like this."

Eventually he pursed his lips and glanced down at Hudson’s hand.

“Do you plan to do that through insults to my character to keep me in check?” he deadpanned as he looked between Hudson’s face and his outstretched hand.

He was still rightly offended, but he felt bad just ignoring him (he supposed he implied it was an act…did that help?) so he took his hand and shook it.

"Look, sugar coating is for babies, I'm just saying. So don't hate me just yet," he chuckled, rolling his shoulders, before waving Ray to follow him.

He fixed his hat, boots marching down the beaten trail full of gravel and tripping hazards such as loose roots. The sound of boys screaming and adults yelling could be heard up ahead, signalling that it might be time to group up with your units.

"Alright, Ray, try not to anger the scout master too much, he does hold grudges. The tallest kid in the group is named Nickson and all you need to know about him is that he's a jerk. As well as his two henchmen, Alex and Ricky. But, they're dumb, so I wouldn't worry too much."

Right off the bat, Hudson was giving Ray intel on the whole cast in the unit. Even telling him a few secrets that could be used to blackmail the fellow scouts. From the looks of it, Hudson seemed....intense.

He turned his head to Ray.

His gaze mostly stayed on the worn path as he stepped over roots and stones, taking in all of the…warnings, mostly.

“Yeah, I got it,” he hummed, glancing back up at Hudson. “You’re not givin’ me much t’a look forward to, y’know.”

“Everyone just seems, uh…” he kicked a pebble, sending it flying in front of them as it skittered down the path, “out to get me?”

He snapped his fingers suddenly, vaguely pointing at Hudson. “Ah, but wait, yer just gonna say somethin’ like ‘that’s the real world’ or ‘don’t expect to get coddled here’, right? ‘Guess that was a dumb observation.”

He kicked another pebble, sending this one flying into the bushes.

"Well, um, that's just my way of thinking. Doesn't mean it's true or anything."

"A-anyway, it's not you. I guess I'm just...paranoid..for you? I don't know, that's kind of always been my thing. I tend to overthink things and get all defensive," he muttered awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Observations aren't dumb. Even if they can be obvious sometimes, it's important to have the skill to take note of them."

He swallowed a little, fiddling with a patch on his uniform.

"You don't have to be quiet. In all honesty, I-I like your voice. It's...nice. A bit Innocent, but it's got a nice sound to it. L-like, if I were to write about it, I wouldn't but still, I'd probably use the word "dulcet" or something."

His face was burning at his sincerity.

“…huh,” he said after a beat. “So you aren’t all tough as nails? Got some sweet parts after all, huh? Kinda like a geode.”

“‘S not bad, y’know, the whole worryin’ thing. I’d rather someone care a whole lot than not at all.” He studied Hudson as he spoke, like this was the first time he was actually paying attention.

He perked up a bit at the comment on his voice.

“…Really? I’ve never heard anythin’ like that about my voice. I mean, I guess everyone around me usually sounds about the same, but I’ve never heard it described as… well, nice. I like yours too. I ain’t got any fancy word for it, but I’ve never quite heard anythin’ like it. Guess it’s just cause you’re from ‘round here and I’m not, but I still like it.”

His hands found the folded piece of paper in his pocket and took it out again, beginning to unfold it.

Hudson shoved his hands in his pockets, hunched forward as his eyes were dead set ahead. "Nah. My voice could be better. I got rid of the Quebec accent, but now it feels like my voice just got squeaky and uneven...."

"Are you serious? My Mere takes me to the local gallery once every other weekend. Those art pieces aren't cheap! Like uh.....Tom Thomson! He's a painter!....One of my favourites, actually."

Hudson gave him a surprised look, tilting his head. "I say you have a good shot at getting a job as an artist. People need people to draw or paint moments in history, like in the Great War. Or in the entertainment business."

He coughed, not liking how his voice cracked at the end. He picked up the pace, channelling all of his nervous energy into his legs. The leaves and gravel crunched as they fell prey in his path.

“History stuff would be cool, though I dunno if I’d be paintin’ The Great War…’s kinda brutal,” he mused, “I like drawin’ animals and uhm… ocean-scapes, I guess.”

“…I got the oceanography merit badge no problem,” he added with a small smile, his gaze staying on the path in front of them. “I think they like the ray doodles I added..”

“And uhm… Entertainment would be cool as well, I think. Maybe if we put your writin’ and my drawin’ together we could make a comic or somethin’.” He offered Hudson a crooked smile, flashing a few crooked teeth.

"Glad to hear that you got the oceanography merit badge though. I could never. I hardly deserve that badge."

"In fact, I suck at geography and navigation."

He finally entered the clearing, checking Ray was beside him before he marched ahead. The scout master Tucker was already separating scouts into groups, acting like a Shepard.

Hudson waved Ray over as he walked over to the master. The man seemed to be in his early 20's and seemed...fine. Not that interesting really.

"Ah, hello there. You must be the new scout! Care to introduce yourself?"

He straightened up a bit once addressed, offering a weak smile.

"Either way, it's a pleasure to have you on our unit. If you ever need help, look for an adult, never try tackling something you don't know. You and your fellow scouts. Never stray too far either. I don't know what kind of forests Virginia has, but here in Ontario? Our forests are thick."

"Before you go rough house with your fellow boys, I'm going to need the names of parents and allergies. I assume your father already signed the papers, so I won't pester about that.

“Right, names,” he said with a nod, “Daniel and Annie Graves are my parents. Y’won’t get much from my ma though, since I’m not with her right now. ‘Don’t think she knows I’m here.”

He glanced over at Hudson and the other boy before looking back to the scout master and clearing his throat.

“Allergies wise, uhm…. Pollen’s the only thing that comes to mind. I dunno what y’all got out here, but I should be fine.”

He was quiet for a moment, watching the man write as he awkwardly scuffed his boot against the rough ground.

"It is. Thank you for being cooperative, Ray. We're happy to have you, even if it's just for the summer. I'm sure you'll make friends."

Tucker then clapped his hands together, grabbing the boys attention as all gathered around him. Curious eyes were already glancing at Ray.

"Boys! This is Ray Graves. Now, he may be from the States, but he is still a fellow scout, just like all of us. I expect you all to treat him with respect."

A boy, the tallest, began to snicker, before rolling his hazel eyes. "Right, right, but what's up with the uniform?"

At the boy’s comment though, he stirred.

“Uhm,” he shrank slightly under the boy’s gaze, eyebrows furrowed. “…No? I just… I wasn’t goin’ to go tailor my uniform just for the summer. Somethin’ wrong with that?”

He studied the boy for a moment before stepping back, not wanting to make trouble as soon as he was introduced.

“The scout master was right, I’m just like the rest of you,” he added, holding his arms up in surrender. “A lot of us can’t afford to throw money at scout uniforms…”

Hudson stepped in front of Ray, his brown eyes now flaring up in fury. "Shut up, dirt bag! Like you're the one to talk! Last week, I threw a rock at your neck and you cried."

Scout Master Tucker looked baffled, before rolling his eyes and sighing. "That's enough, boys!"

But they didn't listen.

"That hurt y'know!"

"Glad it did, because I was originally aiming for your face!"

Great. First day and he’d already started a fight.

“Hudson—“ he mumbled, though the older boy couldn’t hear him. Or maybe chose not to in favor of the fighting, Ray couldn’t really tell.

“Hudson,” he tried again, pulling at Hudson’s sleeve. That seemed to do the trick.

Ray narrowed his eyes at Nickson, his annoyance apparent, but just turned back to Hudson.

“It’s not even worth it,” he muttered to him, his hand finally releasing Hudson’s sleeve. It returned to his hair, dark strands pinched between his index and thumb, twisting around and around his ring finger.

Nickson sneered at the two, before Tucker came in between the two boys. His lanky tall figure looming over the two boys, hands folded across his chest. "That's enough! Fallows, keep in your lane. Hendricks, keep your temper in check. I do not want another fight breaking out between you two. The last one, I had to call your parents, a forest ranger and a doctor."

Tucker grabbed Hudson firmly by his shoulder, holding him back while giving him a dark look.

"Shall I call your father? I mean...I'd hate to pull him out of drills right now."

Hudson ripped his shoulder out of the Scout Master's grip, shaking his head. "No."

He took Hudson’s arm after the other boy had moved away from the Scout Master and pulled him a bit further from the group.

“Was that really necessary? Y’all made a whole scene,” he muttered, still holding onto Hudson’s arm.

“Did I forget to mention I don’t wanna stand out more than I already am?”

He finally released Hudson’s arm in favor of crossing his arms over his chest, shooting the Nickson boy a dirty look.

“Not that it… wasn’t sort of warranted, I s’ppose,” he muttered after a beat.

“But violence? Really? Ain’t you a Scout? Ain’t he a Scout too?! The heck are you guys doin’ up here to normalize this kinda stuff…”

She greeted a fellow Mother, her smile just twitching when the madame pronounced her name wrong.

She had given up on correcting people long ago, already feeling fatigue from having to watch all those people tumble and slip up with it.

She then noticed a burly man dragging a little boy down to the camp grounds. She didn't recall meeting the man before nor the little boy before, so she was already brushing off her dress and walking towards them with a smile.

"Bonjour monsieur! It's quite lovely to see new faces around here. Is your boy joining this group as well? It's such a wonderful thing to see kids interested in participating in this!"

The man looked up as he was approached, offering a small smile as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well hello there, ma’am. Yeah, my son’s gonna give it a go. I’m on a little, uh, work trip, so I figured I wouldn’t bore him with my business.” He ruffled his son’s hair as he said that last bit. His accent sharply contrasted hers, one that could be identified as Southern from the U.S.

He turned to his son and moved his hand to his shoulder as he added, “Ray, why don’t you go on and run ahead. Make sure you talk to the other boys, y’hear? No point avoidin’ it if you wanna have fun.”

The kid—Ray—nodded and gave him a hug before walking off to join the other boys. His father watched him go for a moment before turning back to Catherine.

"Oh that is just swell! I do hope your stay here is mighty fine. You'll love it here. The thick forests, the homey small smalls on the way and you can't forget about the maple candies here."

"Well, Daniel, you may call me Cathy. If you would like, I could show your little Raymond around the camp grounds. My son goes here as well so perhaps I'll introduce him."

He raised an eyebrow in response to the information on Catherine’s husband.

“Military, eh? I bet he is proud. Maybe I’ll give it a few years before I join again. I used to be in it and all. Gotta give Ray a couple years to grow up though, y’know? He’s…” he shrugged and trailed off, glancing back at Ray. The kid was sort of hanging off to the side of the group of boys.

She caught the kid awkwardly shuffling around a grand oak, its branches outstretched to the sky as sunlight seeped through its leaves and branches.

She smiled, chuckling when she knelt down, her dress sweeping over dirt and grass. Her warm benevolent brown eyes melted in Ray's as she tilted her head. "Well hello, miel. How are you over here? Is the oak giving you company?"

Her teasing was light and sympathetic, before her hands reached out to adjust Ray's collar and sash and patches.

“I’m uh… I’m fine.” He looked up at the towering oak tree, then back at the woman. “I suppose it is. They tend to be good company. Nature and all.”

His accent was a little softer than his father’s, his words flowing together a bit neater. He was quieter though, as his father had said.

He liked the way the branches stretched up and outward, like they were trying to soak up every bit of sun possible. He wondered if he could climb it…

Ray wrapped a strand of hair around his finger as he spoke, twisting it around tight almost to the point of knotting it. He didn’t seem too consciously aware of it, like it was a fidget of sorts.

"I'm the bossy one's mother. Don't let his fierceness drive you away, darling. He's my sweet sparrow, after all. And I know that he'll probably take you under his wing."

She glanced at the chattering group of kids behind them, the young boys rough housing and never being mindful of their volume, butchering each other's conversations.

"Seems that he isn't sulking around, oh my. Well, mon ami, would you like to help poor me hunt for him?"

“Uhm… I’m not real sure how much more clueless you are than me, ma’am,” Ray said anxiously, “I’m awfully lost myself…”

He’d successfully tied a small knot into his hair by now, and he just fidgeted with that instead. His gaze had traveled to the rest of the Scouts as he watched a few of them, who’d become fascinated with killing a bug on the ground.

“I don’t know any of the other guys…”

The concept of joining a new group where everyone knew each other sounded like hell, not that he wanted to tell his dad that because this was the only option, and his parents had always encouraged him to socialize.

"Ah, quiet and bashful, aren't you? How endearing," she said with a sweet lilt in her voice. Her voice was accented and light, her voice seemed warm and feather light forever and always.

Her hand gently reached the boy's and put a pause on the twirling finger. She calmly made him unravel the strand of hair, freeing his finger and instead gave him a small piece of paper.

"Sometimes I like to fold this into little shapes or animals, or just play with it. Better than putting strain in that pretty hair of yours."

She straightened herself once more and motioned for the boy to follow him, her eyes slightly brighter in the sunlight, but still warm.

But she seemed nice enough… Mothers weren’t usually a threat, right?

He followed the woman away from the big oak tree, holding the paper in his pale hands. He’d started folding it into small triangles as they walked. It didn’t have the same feel as playing with his hair, but it worked.

“Are the guys here nice?” He asked, looking up at the Catherine. “I don’t want any trouble.”

He had some trouble with his other troop, and the last thing he wanted was to be picked on during some trip he didn’t even want to go on.

"I haven't met them all, but I'm sure they'll see your values," she answered bluntly.

The thickets around them were lush with all sorts of blooming colours while sunlight happened to seep through the variety of pine trees. Catherine could be seen glancing around, surveying the trail in hopes of seeing even a glimpse of her son.

She glanced down at Ray, "I have hopes you'll fit in well enough. Besides, it's only for this summer."

"You may call me Cathy, by the way."

Catherine snapped her head up when she heard some sort of rattling noise. She exhaled sharply through her nose, a hand on her forehead.

In fact, he could feel a flicker of dread in his stomach. He found himself regretting asking the question in the first place.

“Ah, I’m… I’m sure I will,” he mumbled, crumpling the paper slightly. He was quick to smooth it out again and keep folding it. No one ever saw his damn values, what was she talking about?

He looked up at the noise as well, folding the paper a few more times. A fence? Climbing a fence. Alright then. Now his hopes were really low.

“Maybe you should go check,” Ray offered blandly as he looked back up at Cathy. “‘Specially if this is a reoccurrence.”

He was losing the will to talk again and the paper was getting too small to fold. The woman seemed nice, but she was still some adult, and that seemed far off from an actual friend, especially if she was a parent.

She marched over to the fence, a moving figure already coming into view as the trees were now having some distance between each other.

The figure happened to a young boy. His scout uniform was smooth, but dishevelled and dirty. One knee had a bandage while one knuckles had a bandage as well. The hat the boy was wearing was teetering at the edge of his scalp, threatening to fall off.

The boy gave his mother a quick glance, before scrambling to hop the fence, causing Cathy to already be on the move. She argued and scolded the boy in French, while the boy was already spitting back at her.

Cathy awkwardly glanced back at Ray, tugging her son off the fence and making him jump off. "Ray, this is Hudson."

“Nice t’meet you,” he said as he pocketed the folded paper. “I’ll try not t’a bother you too much.”

He offered the boy—who looked older than him, Ray thought, though he figured it wasn’t by much—a small smile that he hoped looked pleasant and not utterly awkward and miserable.

He didn’t move as close to the fence as Cathy had done, standing a yard or two away from the two of them.

“How is my first impression?” Ray asked as his eyes drifted up to the boy’s skewed hat. He reached up and pushed it back into place, mouthing the word, “sorry”.

He couldn’t really tell if the Hudson was judging him (it sort of felt like he was) and despite the fact that Ray had just met him, he felt the need to not disappoint.

“…Sorry your mom dumped me on you, by the way,” he added in a mumble as his dark eyes flickered up to meet Hudson’s before looking away again.

"Your first impression is that you're asking to get bullied. Stand up straighter, goodness."

Hudson folded his arms, tilting his head as he watched Ray twirl his hair. "Whatever. You're not the first kid my Mere shoved towards me. And you probably won't be the last, knowing her."

He brushed the dirt off his knees and stood up, back tall and shoulders squared. "I wouldn't do that in front of the other guys. They'll probably call you a girl."

His hard glare slowly melted into something more...warmer. Still intense, but no longer icy. He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ahem. Sorry. Sometimes I forget that no ones around and I don't need to act like this."

Eventually he pursed his lips and glanced down at Hudson’s hand.

“Do you plan to do that through insults to my character to keep me in check?” he deadpanned as he looked between Hudson’s face and his outstretched hand.

He was still rightly offended, but he felt bad just ignoring him (he supposed he implied it was an act…did that help?) so he took his hand and shook it.

"Look, sugar coating is for babies, I'm just saying. So don't hate me just yet," he chuckled, rolling his shoulders, before waving Ray to follow him.

He fixed his hat, boots marching down the beaten trail full of gravel and tripping hazards such as loose roots. The sound of boys screaming and adults yelling could be heard up ahead, signalling that it might be time to group up with your units.

"Alright, Ray, try not to anger the scout master too much, he does hold grudges. The tallest kid in the group is named Nickson and all you need to know about him is that he's a jerk. As well as his two henchmen, Alex and Ricky. But, they're dumb, so I wouldn't worry too much."

Right off the bat, Hudson was giving Ray intel on the whole cast in the unit. Even telling him a few secrets that could be used to blackmail the fellow scouts. From the looks of it, Hudson seemed....intense.

He turned his head to Ray.

His gaze mostly stayed on the worn path as he stepped over roots and stones, taking in all of the…warnings, mostly.

“Yeah, I got it,” he hummed, glancing back up at Hudson. “You’re not givin’ me much t’a look forward to, y’know.”

“Everyone just seems, uh…” he kicked a pebble, sending it flying in front of them as it skittered down the path, “out to get me?”

He snapped his fingers suddenly, vaguely pointing at Hudson. “Ah, but wait, yer just gonna say somethin’ like ‘that’s the real world’ or ‘don’t expect to get coddled here’, right? ‘Guess that was a dumb observation.”

He kicked another pebble, sending this one flying into the bushes.

"Well, um, that's just my way of thinking. Doesn't mean it's true or anything."

"A-anyway, it's not you. I guess I'm just...paranoid..for you? I don't know, that's kind of always been my thing. I tend to overthink things and get all defensive," he muttered awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Observations aren't dumb. Even if they can be obvious sometimes, it's important to have the skill to take note of them."

He swallowed a little, fiddling with a patch on his uniform.

"You don't have to be quiet. In all honesty, I-I like your voice. It's...nice. A bit Innocent, but it's got a nice sound to it. L-like, if I were to write about it, I wouldn't but still, I'd probably use the word "dulcet" or something."

His face was burning at his sincerity.

“…huh,” he said after a beat. “So you aren’t all tough as nails? Got some sweet parts after all, huh? Kinda like a geode.”

“‘S not bad, y’know, the whole worryin’ thing. I’d rather someone care a whole lot than not at all.” He studied Hudson as he spoke, like this was the first time he was actually paying attention.

He perked up a bit at the comment on his voice.

“…Really? I’ve never heard anythin’ like that about my voice. I mean, I guess everyone around me usually sounds about the same, but I’ve never heard it described as… well, nice. I like yours too. I ain’t got any fancy word for it, but I’ve never quite heard anythin’ like it. Guess it’s just cause you’re from ‘round here and I’m not, but I still like it.”

His hands found the folded piece of paper in his pocket and took it out again, beginning to unfold it.

Hudson shoved his hands in his pockets, hunched forward as his eyes were dead set ahead. "Nah. My voice could be better. I got rid of the Quebec accent, but now it feels like my voice just got squeaky and uneven...."

"Are you serious? My Mere takes me to the local gallery once every other weekend. Those art pieces aren't cheap! Like uh.....Tom Thomson! He's a painter!....One of my favourites, actually."

Hudson gave him a surprised look, tilting his head. "I say you have a good shot at getting a job as an artist. People need people to draw or paint moments in history, like in the Great War. Or in the entertainment business."

He coughed, not liking how his voice cracked at the end. He picked up the pace, channelling all of his nervous energy into his legs. The leaves and gravel crunched as they fell prey in his path.

“History stuff would be cool, though I dunno if I’d be paintin’ The Great War…’s kinda brutal,” he mused, “I like drawin’ animals and uhm… ocean-scapes, I guess.”

“…I got the oceanography merit badge no problem,” he added with a small smile, his gaze staying on the path in front of them. “I think they like the ray doodles I added..”

“And uhm… Entertainment would be cool as well, I think. Maybe if we put your writin’ and my drawin’ together we could make a comic or somethin’.” He offered Hudson a crooked smile, flashing a few crooked teeth.

"Glad to hear that you got the oceanography merit badge though. I could never. I hardly deserve that badge."

"In fact, I suck at geography and navigation."

He finally entered the clearing, checking Ray was beside him before he marched ahead. The scout master Tucker was already separating scouts into groups, acting like a Shepard.

Hudson waved Ray over as he walked over to the master. The man seemed to be in his early 20's and seemed...fine. Not that interesting really.

"Ah, hello there. You must be the new scout! Care to introduce yourself?"

He straightened up a bit once addressed, offering a weak smile.

"Either way, it's a pleasure to have you on our unit. If you ever need help, look for an adult, never try tackling something you don't know. You and your fellow scouts. Never stray too far either. I don't know what kind of forests Virginia has, but here in Ontario? Our forests are thick."

"Before you go rough house with your fellow boys, I'm going to need the names of parents and allergies. I assume your father already signed the papers, so I won't pester about that.

“Right, names,” he said with a nod, “Daniel and Annie Graves are my parents. Y’won’t get much from my ma though, since I’m not with her right now. ‘Don’t think she knows I’m here.”

He glanced over at Hudson and the other boy before looking back to the scout master and clearing his throat.

“Allergies wise, uhm…. Pollen’s the only thing that comes to mind. I dunno what y’all got out here, but I should be fine.”

He was quiet for a moment, watching the man write as he awkwardly scuffed his boot against the rough ground.

"It is. Thank you for being cooperative, Ray. We're happy to have you, even if it's just for the summer. I'm sure you'll make friends."

Tucker then clapped his hands together, grabbing the boys attention as all gathered around him. Curious eyes were already glancing at Ray.

"Boys! This is Ray Graves. Now, he may be from the States, but he is still a fellow scout, just like all of us. I expect you all to treat him with respect."

A boy, the tallest, began to snicker, before rolling his hazel eyes. "Right, right, but what's up with the uniform?"

At the boy’s comment though, he stirred.

“Uhm,” he shrank slightly under the boy’s gaze, eyebrows furrowed. “…No? I just… I wasn’t goin’ to go tailor my uniform just for the summer. Somethin’ wrong with that?”

He studied the boy for a moment before stepping back, not wanting to make trouble as soon as he was introduced.

“The scout master was right, I’m just like the rest of you,” he added, holding his arms up in surrender. “A lot of us can’t afford to throw money at scout uniforms…”

Hudson stepped in front of Ray, his brown eyes now flaring up in fury. "Shut up, dirt bag! Like you're the one to talk! Last week, I threw a rock at your neck and you cried."

Scout Master Tucker looked baffled, before rolling his eyes and sighing. "That's enough, boys!"

But they didn't listen.

"That hurt y'know!"

"Glad it did, because I was originally aiming for your face!"

Great. First day and he’d already started a fight.

“Hudson—“ he mumbled, though the older boy couldn’t hear him. Or maybe chose not to in favor of the fighting, Ray couldn’t really tell.

“Hudson,” he tried again, pulling at Hudson’s sleeve. That seemed to do the trick.

Ray narrowed his eyes at Nickson, his annoyance apparent, but just turned back to Hudson.

“It’s not even worth it,” he muttered to him, his hand finally releasing Hudson’s sleeve. It returned to his hair, dark strands pinched between his index and thumb, twisting around and around his ring finger.

She greeted a fellow Mother, her smile just twitching when the madame pronounced her name wrong.

She had given up on correcting people long ago, already feeling fatigue from having to watch all those people tumble and slip up with it.

She then noticed a burly man dragging a little boy down to the camp grounds. She didn't recall meeting the man before nor the little boy before, so she was already brushing off her dress and walking towards them with a smile.

"Bonjour monsieur! It's quite lovely to see new faces around here. Is your boy joining this group as well? It's such a wonderful thing to see kids interested in participating in this!"

The man looked up as he was approached, offering a small smile as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well hello there, ma’am. Yeah, my son’s gonna give it a go. I’m on a little, uh, work trip, so I figured I wouldn’t bore him with my business.” He ruffled his son’s hair as he said that last bit. His accent sharply contrasted hers, one that could be identified as Southern from the U.S.

He turned to his son and moved his hand to his shoulder as he added, “Ray, why don’t you go on and run ahead. Make sure you talk to the other boys, y’hear? No point avoidin’ it if you wanna have fun.”

The kid—Ray—nodded and gave him a hug before walking off to join the other boys. His father watched him go for a moment before turning back to Catherine.

"Oh that is just swell! I do hope your stay here is mighty fine. You'll love it here. The thick forests, the homey small smalls on the way and you can't forget about the maple candies here."

"Well, Daniel, you may call me Cathy. If you would like, I could show your little Raymond around the camp grounds. My son goes here as well so perhaps I'll introduce him."

He raised an eyebrow in response to the information on Catherine’s husband.

“Military, eh? I bet he is proud. Maybe I’ll give it a few years before I join again. I used to be in it and all. Gotta give Ray a couple years to grow up though, y’know? He’s…” he shrugged and trailed off, glancing back at Ray. The kid was sort of hanging off to the side of the group of boys.

She caught the kid awkwardly shuffling around a grand oak, its branches outstretched to the sky as sunlight seeped through its leaves and branches.

She smiled, chuckling when she knelt down, her dress sweeping over dirt and grass. Her warm benevolent brown eyes melted in Ray's as she tilted her head. "Well hello, miel. How are you over here? Is the oak giving you company?"

Her teasing was light and sympathetic, before her hands reached out to adjust Ray's collar and sash and patches.

“I’m uh… I’m fine.” He looked up at the towering oak tree, then back at the woman. “I suppose it is. They tend to be good company. Nature and all.”

His accent was a little softer than his father’s, his words flowing together a bit neater. He was quieter though, as his father had said.

He liked the way the branches stretched up and outward, like they were trying to soak up every bit of sun possible. He wondered if he could climb it…

Ray wrapped a strand of hair around his finger as he spoke, twisting it around tight almost to the point of knotting it. He didn’t seem too consciously aware of it, like it was a fidget of sorts.

"I'm the bossy one's mother. Don't let his fierceness drive you away, darling. He's my sweet sparrow, after all. And I know that he'll probably take you under his wing."

She glanced at the chattering group of kids behind them, the young boys rough housing and never being mindful of their volume, butchering each other's conversations.

"Seems that he isn't sulking around, oh my. Well, mon ami, would you like to help poor me hunt for him?"

“Uhm… I’m not real sure how much more clueless you are than me, ma’am,” Ray said anxiously, “I’m awfully lost myself…”

He’d successfully tied a small knot into his hair by now, and he just fidgeted with that instead. His gaze had traveled to the rest of the Scouts as he watched a few of them, who’d become fascinated with killing a bug on the ground.

“I don’t know any of the other guys…”

The concept of joining a new group where everyone knew each other sounded like hell, not that he wanted to tell his dad that because this was the only option, and his parents had always encouraged him to socialize.

"Ah, quiet and bashful, aren't you? How endearing," she said with a sweet lilt in her voice. Her voice was accented and light, her voice seemed warm and feather light forever and always.

Her hand gently reached the boy's and put a pause on the twirling finger. She calmly made him unravel the strand of hair, freeing his finger and instead gave him a small piece of paper.

"Sometimes I like to fold this into little shapes or animals, or just play with it. Better than putting strain in that pretty hair of yours."

She straightened herself once more and motioned for the boy to follow him, her eyes slightly brighter in the sunlight, but still warm.

But she seemed nice enough… Mothers weren’t usually a threat, right?

He followed the woman away from the big oak tree, holding the paper in his pale hands. He’d started folding it into small triangles as they walked. It didn’t have the same feel as playing with his hair, but it worked.

“Are the guys here nice?” He asked, looking up at the Catherine. “I don’t want any trouble.”

He had some trouble with his other troop, and the last thing he wanted was to be picked on during some trip he didn’t even want to go on.

"I haven't met them all, but I'm sure they'll see your values," she answered bluntly.

The thickets around them were lush with all sorts of blooming colours while sunlight happened to seep through the variety of pine trees. Catherine could be seen glancing around, surveying the trail in hopes of seeing even a glimpse of her son.

She glanced down at Ray, "I have hopes you'll fit in well enough. Besides, it's only for this summer."

"You may call me Cathy, by the way."

Catherine snapped her head up when she heard some sort of rattling noise. She exhaled sharply through her nose, a hand on her forehead.

In fact, he could feel a flicker of dread in his stomach. He found himself regretting asking the question in the first place.

“Ah, I’m… I’m sure I will,” he mumbled, crumpling the paper slightly. He was quick to smooth it out again and keep folding it. No one ever saw his damn values, what was she talking about?

He looked up at the noise as well, folding the paper a few more times. A fence? Climbing a fence. Alright then. Now his hopes were really low.

“Maybe you should go check,” Ray offered blandly as he looked back up at Cathy. “‘Specially if this is a reoccurrence.”

He was losing the will to talk again and the paper was getting too small to fold. The woman seemed nice, but she was still some adult, and that seemed far off from an actual friend, especially if she was a parent.

She marched over to the fence, a moving figure already coming into view as the trees were now having some distance between each other.

The figure happened to a young boy. His scout uniform was smooth, but dishevelled and dirty. One knee had a bandage while one knuckles had a bandage as well. The hat the boy was wearing was teetering at the edge of his scalp, threatening to fall off.

The boy gave his mother a quick glance, before scrambling to hop the fence, causing Cathy to already be on the move. She argued and scolded the boy in French, while the boy was already spitting back at her.

Cathy awkwardly glanced back at Ray, tugging her son off the fence and making him jump off. "Ray, this is Hudson."

“Nice t’meet you,” he said as he pocketed the folded paper. “I’ll try not t’a bother you too much.”

He offered the boy—who looked older than him, Ray thought, though he figured it wasn’t by much—a small smile that he hoped looked pleasant and not utterly awkward and miserable.

He didn’t move as close to the fence as Cathy had done, standing a yard or two away from the two of them.

“How is my first impression?” Ray asked as his eyes drifted up to the boy’s skewed hat. He reached up and pushed it back into place, mouthing the word, “sorry”.

He couldn’t really tell if the Hudson was judging him (it sort of felt like he was) and despite the fact that Ray had just met him, he felt the need to not disappoint.

“…Sorry your mom dumped me on you, by the way,” he added in a mumble as his dark eyes flickered up to meet Hudson’s before looking away again.

"Your first impression is that you're asking to get bullied. Stand up straighter, goodness."

Hudson folded his arms, tilting his head as he watched Ray twirl his hair. "Whatever. You're not the first kid my Mere shoved towards me. And you probably won't be the last, knowing her."

He brushed the dirt off his knees and stood up, back tall and shoulders squared. "I wouldn't do that in front of the other guys. They'll probably call you a girl."

His hard glare slowly melted into something more...warmer. Still intense, but no longer icy. He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ahem. Sorry. Sometimes I forget that no ones around and I don't need to act like this."

Eventually he pursed his lips and glanced down at Hudson’s hand.

“Do you plan to do that through insults to my character to keep me in check?” he deadpanned as he looked between Hudson’s face and his outstretched hand.

He was still rightly offended, but he felt bad just ignoring him (he supposed he implied it was an act…did that help?) so he took his hand and shook it.

"Look, sugar coating is for babies, I'm just saying. So don't hate me just yet," he chuckled, rolling his shoulders, before waving Ray to follow him.

He fixed his hat, boots marching down the beaten trail full of gravel and tripping hazards such as loose roots. The sound of boys screaming and adults yelling could be heard up ahead, signalling that it might be time to group up with your units.

"Alright, Ray, try not to anger the scout master too much, he does hold grudges. The tallest kid in the group is named Nickson and all you need to know about him is that he's a jerk. As well as his two henchmen, Alex and Ricky. But, they're dumb, so I wouldn't worry too much."

Right off the bat, Hudson was giving Ray intel on the whole cast in the unit. Even telling him a few secrets that could be used to blackmail the fellow scouts. From the looks of it, Hudson seemed....intense.

He turned his head to Ray.

His gaze mostly stayed on the worn path as he stepped over roots and stones, taking in all of the…warnings, mostly.

“Yeah, I got it,” he hummed, glancing back up at Hudson. “You’re not givin’ me much t’a look forward to, y’know.”

“Everyone just seems, uh…” he kicked a pebble, sending it flying in front of them as it skittered down the path, “out to get me?”

He snapped his fingers suddenly, vaguely pointing at Hudson. “Ah, but wait, yer just gonna say somethin’ like ‘that’s the real world’ or ‘don’t expect to get coddled here’, right? ‘Guess that was a dumb observation.”

He kicked another pebble, sending this one flying into the bushes.

"Well, um, that's just my way of thinking. Doesn't mean it's true or anything."

"A-anyway, it's not you. I guess I'm just...paranoid..for you? I don't know, that's kind of always been my thing. I tend to overthink things and get all defensive," he muttered awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Observations aren't dumb. Even if they can be obvious sometimes, it's important to have the skill to take note of them."

He swallowed a little, fiddling with a patch on his uniform.

"You don't have to be quiet. In all honesty, I-I like your voice. It's...nice. A bit Innocent, but it's got a nice sound to it. L-like, if I were to write about it, I wouldn't but still, I'd probably use the word "dulcet" or something."

His face was burning at his sincerity.

“…huh,” he said after a beat. “So you aren’t all tough as nails? Got some sweet parts after all, huh? Kinda like a geode.”

“‘S not bad, y’know, the whole worryin’ thing. I’d rather someone care a whole lot than not at all.” He studied Hudson as he spoke, like this was the first time he was actually paying attention.

He perked up a bit at the comment on his voice.

“…Really? I’ve never heard anythin’ like that about my voice. I mean, I guess everyone around me usually sounds about the same, but I’ve never heard it described as… well, nice. I like yours too. I ain’t got any fancy word for it, but I’ve never quite heard anythin’ like it. Guess it’s just cause you’re from ‘round here and I’m not, but I still like it.”

His hands found the folded piece of paper in his pocket and took it out again, beginning to unfold it.

Hudson shoved his hands in his pockets, hunched forward as his eyes were dead set ahead. "Nah. My voice could be better. I got rid of the Quebec accent, but now it feels like my voice just got squeaky and uneven...."

"Are you serious? My Mere takes me to the local gallery once every other weekend. Those art pieces aren't cheap! Like uh.....Tom Thomson! He's a painter!....One of my favourites, actually."

Hudson gave him a surprised look, tilting his head. "I say you have a good shot at getting a job as an artist. People need people to draw or paint moments in history, like in the Great War. Or in the entertainment business."

He coughed, not liking how his voice cracked at the end. He picked up the pace, channelling all of his nervous energy into his legs. The leaves and gravel crunched as they fell prey in his path.

“History stuff would be cool, though I dunno if I’d be paintin’ The Great War…’s kinda brutal,” he mused, “I like drawin’ animals and uhm… ocean-scapes, I guess.”

“…I got the oceanography merit badge no problem,” he added with a small smile, his gaze staying on the path in front of them. “I think they like the ray doodles I added..”

“And uhm… Entertainment would be cool as well, I think. Maybe if we put your writin’ and my drawin’ together we could make a comic or somethin’.” He offered Hudson a crooked smile, flashing a few crooked teeth.

"Glad to hear that you got the oceanography merit badge though. I could never. I hardly deserve that badge."

"In fact, I suck at geography and navigation."

He finally entered the clearing, checking Ray was beside him before he marched ahead. The scout master Tucker was already separating scouts into groups, acting like a Shepard.

Hudson waved Ray over as he walked over to the master. The man seemed to be in his early 20's and seemed...fine. Not that interesting really.

"Ah, hello there. You must be the new scout! Care to introduce yourself?"

He straightened up a bit once addressed, offering a weak smile.

"Either way, it's a pleasure to have you on our unit. If you ever need help, look for an adult, never try tackling something you don't know. You and your fellow scouts. Never stray too far either. I don't know what kind of forests Virginia has, but here in Ontario? Our forests are thick."

"Before you go rough house with your fellow boys, I'm going to need the names of parents and allergies. I assume your father already signed the papers, so I won't pester about that.

“Right, names,” he said with a nod, “Daniel and Annie Graves are my parents. Y’won’t get much from my ma though, since I’m not with her right now. ‘Don’t think she knows I’m here.”

He glanced over at Hudson and the other boy before looking back to the scout master and clearing his throat.

“Allergies wise, uhm…. Pollen’s the only thing that comes to mind. I dunno what y’all got out here, but I should be fine.”

He was quiet for a moment, watching the man write as he awkwardly scuffed his boot against the rough ground.

"It is. Thank you for being cooperative, Ray. We're happy to have you, even if it's just for the summer. I'm sure you'll make friends."

Tucker then clapped his hands together, grabbing the boys attention as all gathered around him. Curious eyes were already glancing at Ray.

"Boys! This is Ray Graves. Now, he may be from the States, but he is still a fellow scout, just like all of us. I expect you all to treat him with respect."

A boy, the tallest, began to snicker, before rolling his hazel eyes. "Right, right, but what's up with the uniform?"

At the boy’s comment though, he stirred.

“Uhm,” he shrank slightly under the boy’s gaze, eyebrows furrowed. “…No? I just… I wasn’t goin’ to go tailor my uniform just for the summer. Somethin’ wrong with that?”

He studied the boy for a moment before stepping back, not wanting to make trouble as soon as he was introduced.

“The scout master was right, I’m just like the rest of you,” he added, holding his arms up in surrender. “A lot of us can’t afford to throw money at scout uniforms…”

She greeted a fellow Mother, her smile just twitching when the madame pronounced her name wrong.

She had given up on correcting people long ago, already feeling fatigue from having to watch all those people tumble and slip up with it.

She then noticed a burly man dragging a little boy down to the camp grounds. She didn't recall meeting the man before nor the little boy before, so she was already brushing off her dress and walking towards them with a smile.

"Bonjour monsieur! It's quite lovely to see new faces around here. Is your boy joining this group as well? It's such a wonderful thing to see kids interested in participating in this!"

The man looked up as he was approached, offering a small smile as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well hello there, ma’am. Yeah, my son’s gonna give it a go. I’m on a little, uh, work trip, so I figured I wouldn’t bore him with my business.” He ruffled his son’s hair as he said that last bit. His accent sharply contrasted hers, one that could be identified as Southern from the U.S.

He turned to his son and moved his hand to his shoulder as he added, “Ray, why don’t you go on and run ahead. Make sure you talk to the other boys, y’hear? No point avoidin’ it if you wanna have fun.”

The kid—Ray—nodded and gave him a hug before walking off to join the other boys. His father watched him go for a moment before turning back to Catherine.

"Oh that is just swell! I do hope your stay here is mighty fine. You'll love it here. The thick forests, the homey small smalls on the way and you can't forget about the maple candies here."

"Well, Daniel, you may call me Cathy. If you would like, I could show your little Raymond around the camp grounds. My son goes here as well so perhaps I'll introduce him."

He raised an eyebrow in response to the information on Catherine’s husband.

“Military, eh? I bet he is proud. Maybe I’ll give it a few years before I join again. I used to be in it and all. Gotta give Ray a couple years to grow up though, y’know? He’s…” he shrugged and trailed off, glancing back at Ray. The kid was sort of hanging off to the side of the group of boys.

She caught the kid awkwardly shuffling around a grand oak, its branches outstretched to the sky as sunlight seeped through its leaves and branches.

She smiled, chuckling when she knelt down, her dress sweeping over dirt and grass. Her warm benevolent brown eyes melted in Ray's as she tilted her head. "Well hello, miel. How are you over here? Is the oak giving you company?"

Her teasing was light and sympathetic, before her hands reached out to adjust Ray's collar and sash and patches.

“I’m uh… I’m fine.” He looked up at the towering oak tree, then back at the woman. “I suppose it is. They tend to be good company. Nature and all.”

His accent was a little softer than his father’s, his words flowing together a bit neater. He was quieter though, as his father had said.

He liked the way the branches stretched up and outward, like they were trying to soak up every bit of sun possible. He wondered if he could climb it…

Ray wrapped a strand of hair around his finger as he spoke, twisting it around tight almost to the point of knotting it. He didn’t seem too consciously aware of it, like it was a fidget of sorts.

"I'm the bossy one's mother. Don't let his fierceness drive you away, darling. He's my sweet sparrow, after all. And I know that he'll probably take you under his wing."

She glanced at the chattering group of kids behind them, the young boys rough housing and never being mindful of their volume, butchering each other's conversations.

"Seems that he isn't sulking around, oh my. Well, mon ami, would you like to help poor me hunt for him?"

“Uhm… I’m not real sure how much more clueless you are than me, ma’am,” Ray said anxiously, “I’m awfully lost myself…”

He’d successfully tied a small knot into his hair by now, and he just fidgeted with that instead. His gaze had traveled to the rest of the Scouts as he watched a few of them, who’d become fascinated with killing a bug on the ground.

“I don’t know any of the other guys…”

The concept of joining a new group where everyone knew each other sounded like hell, not that he wanted to tell his dad that because this was the only option, and his parents had always encouraged him to socialize.

"Ah, quiet and bashful, aren't you? How endearing," she said with a sweet lilt in her voice. Her voice was accented and light, her voice seemed warm and feather light forever and always.

Her hand gently reached the boy's and put a pause on the twirling finger. She calmly made him unravel the strand of hair, freeing his finger and instead gave him a small piece of paper.

"Sometimes I like to fold this into little shapes or animals, or just play with it. Better than putting strain in that pretty hair of yours."

She straightened herself once more and motioned for the boy to follow him, her eyes slightly brighter in the sunlight, but still warm.

But she seemed nice enough… Mothers weren’t usually a threat, right?

He followed the woman away from the big oak tree, holding the paper in his pale hands. He’d started folding it into small triangles as they walked. It didn’t have the same feel as playing with his hair, but it worked.

“Are the guys here nice?” He asked, looking up at the Catherine. “I don’t want any trouble.”

He had some trouble with his other troop, and the last thing he wanted was to be picked on during some trip he didn’t even want to go on.

"I haven't met them all, but I'm sure they'll see your values," she answered bluntly.

The thickets around them were lush with all sorts of blooming colours while sunlight happened to seep through the variety of pine trees. Catherine could be seen glancing around, surveying the trail in hopes of seeing even a glimpse of her son.

She glanced down at Ray, "I have hopes you'll fit in well enough. Besides, it's only for this summer."

"You may call me Cathy, by the way."

Catherine snapped her head up when she heard some sort of rattling noise. She exhaled sharply through her nose, a hand on her forehead.

In fact, he could feel a flicker of dread in his stomach. He found himself regretting asking the question in the first place.

“Ah, I’m… I’m sure I will,” he mumbled, crumpling the paper slightly. He was quick to smooth it out again and keep folding it. No one ever saw his damn values, what was she talking about?

He looked up at the noise as well, folding the paper a few more times. A fence? Climbing a fence. Alright then. Now his hopes were really low.

“Maybe you should go check,” Ray offered blandly as he looked back up at Cathy. “‘Specially if this is a reoccurrence.”

He was losing the will to talk again and the paper was getting too small to fold. The woman seemed nice, but she was still some adult, and that seemed far off from an actual friend, especially if she was a parent.

She marched over to the fence, a moving figure already coming into view as the trees were now having some distance between each other.

The figure happened to a young boy. His scout uniform was smooth, but dishevelled and dirty. One knee had a bandage while one knuckles had a bandage as well. The hat the boy was wearing was teetering at the edge of his scalp, threatening to fall off.

The boy gave his mother a quick glance, before scrambling to hop the fence, causing Cathy to already be on the move. She argued and scolded the boy in French, while the boy was already spitting back at her.

Cathy awkwardly glanced back at Ray, tugging her son off the fence and making him jump off. "Ray, this is Hudson."

“Nice t’meet you,” he said as he pocketed the folded paper. “I’ll try not t’a bother you too much.”

He offered the boy—who looked older than him, Ray thought, though he figured it wasn’t by much—a small smile that he hoped looked pleasant and not utterly awkward and miserable.

He didn’t move as close to the fence as Cathy had done, standing a yard or two away from the two of them.

“How is my first impression?” Ray asked as his eyes drifted up to the boy’s skewed hat. He reached up and pushed it back into place, mouthing the word, “sorry”.

He couldn’t really tell if the Hudson was judging him (it sort of felt like he was) and despite the fact that Ray had just met him, he felt the need to not disappoint.

“…Sorry your mom dumped me on you, by the way,” he added in a mumble as his dark eyes flickered up to meet Hudson’s before looking away again.

"Your first impression is that you're asking to get bullied. Stand up straighter, goodness."

Hudson folded his arms, tilting his head as he watched Ray twirl his hair. "Whatever. You're not the first kid my Mere shoved towards me. And you probably won't be the last, knowing her."

He brushed the dirt off his knees and stood up, back tall and shoulders squared. "I wouldn't do that in front of the other guys. They'll probably call you a girl."

His hard glare slowly melted into something more...warmer. Still intense, but no longer icy. He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ahem. Sorry. Sometimes I forget that no ones around and I don't need to act like this."

Eventually he pursed his lips and glanced down at Hudson’s hand.

“Do you plan to do that through insults to my character to keep me in check?” he deadpanned as he looked between Hudson’s face and his outstretched hand.

He was still rightly offended, but he felt bad just ignoring him (he supposed he implied it was an act…did that help?) so he took his hand and shook it.

"Look, sugar coating is for babies, I'm just saying. So don't hate me just yet," he chuckled, rolling his shoulders, before waving Ray to follow him.

He fixed his hat, boots marching down the beaten trail full of gravel and tripping hazards such as loose roots. The sound of boys screaming and adults yelling could be heard up ahead, signalling that it might be time to group up with your units.

"Alright, Ray, try not to anger the scout master too much, he does hold grudges. The tallest kid in the group is named Nickson and all you need to know about him is that he's a jerk. As well as his two henchmen, Alex and Ricky. But, they're dumb, so I wouldn't worry too much."

Right off the bat, Hudson was giving Ray intel on the whole cast in the unit. Even telling him a few secrets that could be used to blackmail the fellow scouts. From the looks of it, Hudson seemed....intense.

He turned his head to Ray.

His gaze mostly stayed on the worn path as he stepped over roots and stones, taking in all of the…warnings, mostly.

“Yeah, I got it,” he hummed, glancing back up at Hudson. “You’re not givin’ me much t’a look forward to, y’know.”

“Everyone just seems, uh…” he kicked a pebble, sending it flying in front of them as it skittered down the path, “out to get me?”

He snapped his fingers suddenly, vaguely pointing at Hudson. “Ah, but wait, yer just gonna say somethin’ like ‘that’s the real world’ or ‘don’t expect to get coddled here’, right? ‘Guess that was a dumb observation.”

He kicked another pebble, sending this one flying into the bushes.

"Well, um, that's just my way of thinking. Doesn't mean it's true or anything."

"A-anyway, it's not you. I guess I'm just...paranoid..for you? I don't know, that's kind of always been my thing. I tend to overthink things and get all defensive," he muttered awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Observations aren't dumb. Even if they can be obvious sometimes, it's important to have the skill to take note of them."

He swallowed a little, fiddling with a patch on his uniform.

"You don't have to be quiet. In all honesty, I-I like your voice. It's...nice. A bit Innocent, but it's got a nice sound to it. L-like, if I were to write about it, I wouldn't but still, I'd probably use the word "dulcet" or something."

His face was burning at his sincerity.

“…huh,” he said after a beat. “So you aren’t all tough as nails? Got some sweet parts after all, huh? Kinda like a geode.”

“‘S not bad, y’know, the whole worryin’ thing. I’d rather someone care a whole lot than not at all.” He studied Hudson as he spoke, like this was the first time he was actually paying attention.

He perked up a bit at the comment on his voice.

“…Really? I’ve never heard anythin’ like that about my voice. I mean, I guess everyone around me usually sounds about the same, but I’ve never heard it described as… well, nice. I like yours too. I ain’t got any fancy word for it, but I’ve never quite heard anythin’ like it. Guess it’s just cause you’re from ‘round here and I’m not, but I still like it.”

His hands found the folded piece of paper in his pocket and took it out again, beginning to unfold it.

Hudson shoved his hands in his pockets, hunched forward as his eyes were dead set ahead. "Nah. My voice could be better. I got rid of the Quebec accent, but now it feels like my voice just got squeaky and uneven...."

"Are you serious? My Mere takes me to the local gallery once every other weekend. Those art pieces aren't cheap! Like uh.....Tom Thomson! He's a painter!....One of my favourites, actually."

Hudson gave him a surprised look, tilting his head. "I say you have a good shot at getting a job as an artist. People need people to draw or paint moments in history, like in the Great War. Or in the entertainment business."

He coughed, not liking how his voice cracked at the end. He picked up the pace, channelling all of his nervous energy into his legs. The leaves and gravel crunched as they fell prey in his path.

“History stuff would be cool, though I dunno if I’d be paintin’ The Great War…’s kinda brutal,” he mused, “I like drawin’ animals and uhm… ocean-scapes, I guess.”

“…I got the oceanography merit badge no problem,” he added with a small smile, his gaze staying on the path in front of them. “I think they like the ray doodles I added..”

“And uhm… Entertainment would be cool as well, I think. Maybe if we put your writin’ and my drawin’ together we could make a comic or somethin’.” He offered Hudson a crooked smile, flashing a few crooked teeth.

"Glad to hear that you got the oceanography merit badge though. I could never. I hardly deserve that badge."

"In fact, I suck at geography and navigation."

He finally entered the clearing, checking Ray was beside him before he marched ahead. The scout master Tucker was already separating scouts into groups, acting like a Shepard.

Hudson waved Ray over as he walked over to the master. The man seemed to be in his early 20's and seemed...fine. Not that interesting really.

"Ah, hello there. You must be the new scout! Care to introduce yourself?"

He straightened up a bit once addressed, offering a weak smile.

"Either way, it's a pleasure to have you on our unit. If you ever need help, look for an adult, never try tackling something you don't know. You and your fellow scouts. Never stray too far either. I don't know what kind of forests Virginia has, but here in Ontario? Our forests are thick."

"Before you go rough house with your fellow boys, I'm going to need the names of parents and allergies. I assume your father already signed the papers, so I won't pester about that.

“Right, names,” he said with a nod, “Daniel and Annie Graves are my parents. Y’won’t get much from my ma though, since I’m not with her right now. ‘Don’t think she knows I’m here.”

He glanced over at Hudson and the other boy before looking back to the scout master and clearing his throat.

“Allergies wise, uhm…. Pollen’s the only thing that comes to mind. I dunno what y’all got out here, but I should be fine.”

He was quiet for a moment, watching the man write as he awkwardly scuffed his boot against the rough ground.

She greeted a fellow Mother, her smile just twitching when the madame pronounced her name wrong.

She had given up on correcting people long ago, already feeling fatigue from having to watch all those people tumble and slip up with it.

She then noticed a burly man dragging a little boy down to the camp grounds. She didn't recall meeting the man before nor the little boy before, so she was already brushing off her dress and walking towards them with a smile.

"Bonjour monsieur! It's quite lovely to see new faces around here. Is your boy joining this group as well? It's such a wonderful thing to see kids interested in participating in this!"

The man looked up as he was approached, offering a small smile as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well hello there, ma’am. Yeah, my son’s gonna give it a go. I’m on a little, uh, work trip, so I figured I wouldn’t bore him with my business.” He ruffled his son’s hair as he said that last bit. His accent sharply contrasted hers, one that could be identified as Southern from the U.S.

He turned to his son and moved his hand to his shoulder as he added, “Ray, why don’t you go on and run ahead. Make sure you talk to the other boys, y’hear? No point avoidin’ it if you wanna have fun.”

The kid—Ray—nodded and gave him a hug before walking off to join the other boys. His father watched him go for a moment before turning back to Catherine.

"Oh that is just swell! I do hope your stay here is mighty fine. You'll love it here. The thick forests, the homey small smalls on the way and you can't forget about the maple candies here."

"Well, Daniel, you may call me Cathy. If you would like, I could show your little Raymond around the camp grounds. My son goes here as well so perhaps I'll introduce him."

He raised an eyebrow in response to the information on Catherine’s husband.

“Military, eh? I bet he is proud. Maybe I’ll give it a few years before I join again. I used to be in it and all. Gotta give Ray a couple years to grow up though, y’know? He’s…” he shrugged and trailed off, glancing back at Ray. The kid was sort of hanging off to the side of the group of boys.

She caught the kid awkwardly shuffling around a grand oak, its branches outstretched to the sky as sunlight seeped through its leaves and branches.

She smiled, chuckling when she knelt down, her dress sweeping over dirt and grass. Her warm benevolent brown eyes melted in Ray's as she tilted her head. "Well hello, miel. How are you over here? Is the oak giving you company?"

Her teasing was light and sympathetic, before her hands reached out to adjust Ray's collar and sash and patches.

“I’m uh… I’m fine.” He looked up at the towering oak tree, then back at the woman. “I suppose it is. They tend to be good company. Nature and all.”

His accent was a little softer than his father’s, his words flowing together a bit neater. He was quieter though, as his father had said.

He liked the way the branches stretched up and outward, like they were trying to soak up every bit of sun possible. He wondered if he could climb it…

Ray wrapped a strand of hair around his finger as he spoke, twisting it around tight almost to the point of knotting it. He didn’t seem too consciously aware of it, like it was a fidget of sorts.

"I'm the bossy one's mother. Don't let his fierceness drive you away, darling. He's my sweet sparrow, after all. And I know that he'll probably take you under his wing."

She glanced at the chattering group of kids behind them, the young boys rough housing and never being mindful of their volume, butchering each other's conversations.

"Seems that he isn't sulking around, oh my. Well, mon ami, would you like to help poor me hunt for him?"

“Uhm… I’m not real sure how much more clueless you are than me, ma’am,” Ray said anxiously, “I’m awfully lost myself…”

He’d successfully tied a small knot into his hair by now, and he just fidgeted with that instead. His gaze had traveled to the rest of the Scouts as he watched a few of them, who’d become fascinated with killing a bug on the ground.

“I don’t know any of the other guys…”

The concept of joining a new group where everyone knew each other sounded like hell, not that he wanted to tell his dad that because this was the only option, and his parents had always encouraged him to socialize.

"Ah, quiet and bashful, aren't you? How endearing," she said with a sweet lilt in her voice. Her voice was accented and light, her voice seemed warm and feather light forever and always.

Her hand gently reached the boy's and put a pause on the twirling finger. She calmly made him unravel the strand of hair, freeing his finger and instead gave him a small piece of paper.

"Sometimes I like to fold this into little shapes or animals, or just play with it. Better than putting strain in that pretty hair of yours."

She straightened herself once more and motioned for the boy to follow him, her eyes slightly brighter in the sunlight, but still warm.

But she seemed nice enough… Mothers weren’t usually a threat, right?

He followed the woman away from the big oak tree, holding the paper in his pale hands. He’d started folding it into small triangles as they walked. It didn’t have the same feel as playing with his hair, but it worked.

“Are the guys here nice?” He asked, looking up at the Catherine. “I don’t want any trouble.”

He had some trouble with his other troop, and the last thing he wanted was to be picked on during some trip he didn’t even want to go on.

"I haven't met them all, but I'm sure they'll see your values," she answered bluntly.

The thickets around them were lush with all sorts of blooming colours while sunlight happened to seep through the variety of pine trees. Catherine could be seen glancing around, surveying the trail in hopes of seeing even a glimpse of her son.

She glanced down at Ray, "I have hopes you'll fit in well enough. Besides, it's only for this summer."

"You may call me Cathy, by the way."

Catherine snapped her head up when she heard some sort of rattling noise. She exhaled sharply through her nose, a hand on her forehead.

In fact, he could feel a flicker of dread in his stomach. He found himself regretting asking the question in the first place.

“Ah, I’m… I’m sure I will,” he mumbled, crumpling the paper slightly. He was quick to smooth it out again and keep folding it. No one ever saw his damn values, what was she talking about?

He looked up at the noise as well, folding the paper a few more times. A fence? Climbing a fence. Alright then. Now his hopes were really low.

“Maybe you should go check,” Ray offered blandly as he looked back up at Cathy. “‘Specially if this is a reoccurrence.”

He was losing the will to talk again and the paper was getting too small to fold. The woman seemed nice, but she was still some adult, and that seemed far off from an actual friend, especially if she was a parent.

She marched over to the fence, a moving figure already coming into view as the trees were now having some distance between each other.

The figure happened to a young boy. His scout uniform was smooth, but dishevelled and dirty. One knee had a bandage while one knuckles had a bandage as well. The hat the boy was wearing was teetering at the edge of his scalp, threatening to fall off.

The boy gave his mother a quick glance, before scrambling to hop the fence, causing Cathy to already be on the move. She argued and scolded the boy in French, while the boy was already spitting back at her.

Cathy awkwardly glanced back at Ray, tugging her son off the fence and making him jump off. "Ray, this is Hudson."

“Nice t’meet you,” he said as he pocketed the folded paper. “I’ll try not t’a bother you too much.”

He offered the boy—who looked older than him, Ray thought, though he figured it wasn’t by much—a small smile that he hoped looked pleasant and not utterly awkward and miserable.

He didn’t move as close to the fence as Cathy had done, standing a yard or two away from the two of them.

“How is my first impression?” Ray asked as his eyes drifted up to the boy’s skewed hat. He reached up and pushed it back into place, mouthing the word, “sorry”.

He couldn’t really tell if the Hudson was judging him (it sort of felt like he was) and despite the fact that Ray had just met him, he felt the need to not disappoint.

“…Sorry your mom dumped me on you, by the way,” he added in a mumble as his dark eyes flickered up to meet Hudson’s before looking away again.

"Your first impression is that you're asking to get bullied. Stand up straighter, goodness."

Hudson folded his arms, tilting his head as he watched Ray twirl his hair. "Whatever. You're not the first kid my Mere shoved towards me. And you probably won't be the last, knowing her."

He brushed the dirt off his knees and stood up, back tall and shoulders squared. "I wouldn't do that in front of the other guys. They'll probably call you a girl."

His hard glare slowly melted into something more...warmer. Still intense, but no longer icy. He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ahem. Sorry. Sometimes I forget that no ones around and I don't need to act like this."

Eventually he pursed his lips and glanced down at Hudson’s hand.

“Do you plan to do that through insults to my character to keep me in check?” he deadpanned as he looked between Hudson’s face and his outstretched hand.

He was still rightly offended, but he felt bad just ignoring him (he supposed he implied it was an act…did that help?) so he took his hand and shook it.

"Look, sugar coating is for babies, I'm just saying. So don't hate me just yet," he chuckled, rolling his shoulders, before waving Ray to follow him.

He fixed his hat, boots marching down the beaten trail full of gravel and tripping hazards such as loose roots. The sound of boys screaming and adults yelling could be heard up ahead, signalling that it might be time to group up with your units.

"Alright, Ray, try not to anger the scout master too much, he does hold grudges. The tallest kid in the group is named Nickson and all you need to know about him is that he's a jerk. As well as his two henchmen, Alex and Ricky. But, they're dumb, so I wouldn't worry too much."

Right off the bat, Hudson was giving Ray intel on the whole cast in the unit. Even telling him a few secrets that could be used to blackmail the fellow scouts. From the looks of it, Hudson seemed....intense.

He turned his head to Ray.

His gaze mostly stayed on the worn path as he stepped over roots and stones, taking in all of the…warnings, mostly.

“Yeah, I got it,” he hummed, glancing back up at Hudson. “You’re not givin’ me much t’a look forward to, y’know.”

“Everyone just seems, uh…” he kicked a pebble, sending it flying in front of them as it skittered down the path, “out to get me?”

He snapped his fingers suddenly, vaguely pointing at Hudson. “Ah, but wait, yer just gonna say somethin’ like ‘that’s the real world’ or ‘don’t expect to get coddled here’, right? ‘Guess that was a dumb observation.”

He kicked another pebble, sending this one flying into the bushes.

"Well, um, that's just my way of thinking. Doesn't mean it's true or anything."

"A-anyway, it's not you. I guess I'm just...paranoid..for you? I don't know, that's kind of always been my thing. I tend to overthink things and get all defensive," he muttered awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Observations aren't dumb. Even if they can be obvious sometimes, it's important to have the skill to take note of them."

He swallowed a little, fiddling with a patch on his uniform.

"You don't have to be quiet. In all honesty, I-I like your voice. It's...nice. A bit Innocent, but it's got a nice sound to it. L-like, if I were to write about it, I wouldn't but still, I'd probably use the word "dulcet" or something."

His face was burning at his sincerity.

“…huh,” he said after a beat. “So you aren’t all tough as nails? Got some sweet parts after all, huh? Kinda like a geode.”

“‘S not bad, y’know, the whole worryin’ thing. I’d rather someone care a whole lot than not at all.” He studied Hudson as he spoke, like this was the first time he was actually paying attention.

He perked up a bit at the comment on his voice.

“…Really? I’ve never heard anythin’ like that about my voice. I mean, I guess everyone around me usually sounds about the same, but I’ve never heard it described as… well, nice. I like yours too. I ain’t got any fancy word for it, but I’ve never quite heard anythin’ like it. Guess it’s just cause you’re from ‘round here and I’m not, but I still like it.”

His hands found the folded piece of paper in his pocket and took it out again, beginning to unfold it.

Hudson shoved his hands in his pockets, hunched forward as his eyes were dead set ahead. "Nah. My voice could be better. I got rid of the Quebec accent, but now it feels like my voice just got squeaky and uneven...."

"Are you serious? My Mere takes me to the local gallery once every other weekend. Those art pieces aren't cheap! Like uh.....Tom Thomson! He's a painter!....One of my favourites, actually."

Hudson gave him a surprised look, tilting his head. "I say you have a good shot at getting a job as an artist. People need people to draw or paint moments in history, like in the Great War. Or in the entertainment business."

He coughed, not liking how his voice cracked at the end. He picked up the pace, channelling all of his nervous energy into his legs. The leaves and gravel crunched as they fell prey in his path.

“History stuff would be cool, though I dunno if I’d be paintin’ The Great War…’s kinda brutal,” he mused, “I like drawin’ animals and uhm… ocean-scapes, I guess.”

“…I got the oceanography merit badge no problem,” he added with a small smile, his gaze staying on the path in front of them. “I think they like the ray doodles I added..”

“And uhm… Entertainment would be cool as well, I think. Maybe if we put your writin’ and my drawin’ together we could make a comic or somethin’.” He offered Hudson a crooked smile, flashing a few crooked teeth.

"Glad to hear that you got the oceanography merit badge though. I could never. I hardly deserve that badge."

"In fact, I suck at geography and navigation."

He finally entered the clearing, checking Ray was beside him before he marched ahead. The scout master Tucker was already separating scouts into groups, acting like a Shepard.

Hudson waved Ray over as he walked over to the master. The man seemed to be in his early 20's and seemed...fine. Not that interesting really.

"Ah, hello there. You must be the new scout! Care to introduce yourself?"

He straightened up a bit once addressed, offering a weak smile.