Not Enough Hacks For Herald
"One hack barely cuts the skin, huuuge disappointment. Two hacks just leave a very...meagre mark. Three hacks leave a...minor dent, just like the one on Old Bernard's automobile every week. Four hacks-"
"Just. Shut. Up. Dude, no one wants to listen to your boring speech."
Herald just shot him a glare, clearly not happy about being interrupted in his passionate ramblings.
"Hey! I was getting to the best part!"
"Best part my foot! Not only is it irritating as hell, your attempt at a British accent is so bad that I would rather listen to a drunk local in Birmingham."
I just pinched the bridge of my nose, wondering why I even came to this camping trip when I could be doing something else useful. I held the Monster Energy can in my hand tightly, forming slight dents as I let out a suffering sigh while they kept bickering. I finally looked up and fixed both of them with a deadpanned look.
"Can you guys stop arguing like a bunch of toddlers? I came here to have fun, not get another headache."
Herald just huffed and pouted like a child and averted his gaze slightly. Terrance scoffed at his reaction but didn’t say anything, he was more glad that Herald stopped rambling on about chopping and hacking and picked up his root beer can, then he popped the soda tab open and took a long swig.
His chestnut brown hair seemed dirtier than usual, probably because he had been running his hands through it which had been covered in dirt. His red flannel looked slightly torn from getting trapped in the branches earlier, his blue jeans stained with dirt and mud at the knees, the black t-shirt underneath mildly slick with mud, his white canvas shoes now tainted with patches of dirt and his face also looked a bit roughed up. Herald had leaned back in his chair as it creaked slightly. I raised an eyebrow while looking up and down at his choice of clothing: a white t-shirt, grey pants, and navy blue sneakers. It was rather cold tonight so I was surprised he wasn't wearing a jacket of sorts- though I kept my comments to myself, mainly because I wanted to see him sobbing about catching a cold later on, for blackmail purposes, of course.
"So, how many trees have you chopped down this time?"
I broke the silence with a curious tone and a raised eyebrow as I shifted my gaze to Herald, who instantly perked up at my question.
"Why, I was about to tell you, lovely fellows, when one decided to interrupt me."
That "one" was obviously directed towards Terrance, who just snorted and rolled his eyes. I cut in before they could start bickering again.
"Right...do go on."
"As I was saying, I made quite the profit selling wood this week, but disappointingly, didn't compare to my last week's profit."
I nodded along. He was a lumberjack and had been for the past four years...at least that's what he would say to others. In reality, he was sort of an assistant to a lumberjack in town which makes more sense. He doesn't have a long and fluffy beard, a large axe over his shoulder and your typical lumberjack get-up. He may not be as experienced as the ol' lumberjack in town but he certainly is no rookie either. Though he's constantly looking for a way to flex his biceps in the most arrogant ways but I couldn't fully blame him either.
I was half-listening to his profits while he talked with Terry. I also started noticing that it had gotten colder; we definitely needed more wood soon to fuel the fire further. I glanced at Herald's tent, seeing the wooden logs peeking out and his beloved axe that was beside the pile. He loved that axe like a baby and was extremely possessive of it. Sorry, Ruth, you were never his number one priority, girl.
"And that is the tale of how Jaundice managed to recieve a mere wooden stick lodged in his fleshbag and walked it off!"
Herald grinned proudly as he snapped his fingers. From the way he recited it, you would think he was reciting a great tale of a personified disease fighting against the wildlife but no- it was just another work place incident where Jean managed to get another splinter in his rear end again, honestly impressive how that guy walks it off though or maybe it was just pride taking over. Don't ask me why Herald calls him 'Jaundice'. Trust me, you don't wanna know.
Then, we heard footsteps crunch on gravel in the distance. We all straightened up, straining our ears for the sound...it seemed to come from the northeast direction but we could hardly see any living creature. Then the footsteps on the gravel...slowed down...almost as if the creature in the distance was testing us...uneasiness creeped up our spines and we all exchanged a glance, silently communicating what to do. Herald was the first one to get up...slowly inching towards his tent and grabbing the axe, all the while never breaking eye contact. I could see Terry tense up as his grip on the arm of the chair tightened slightly, his teeth gritting. I felt the sweat pricking on the back of my neck, squinting my eyes to see what was approaching in the distance...it got louder and louder...
