Thread: No Better Time to Bond - [QuirkyVixen & Crescent]

Hallelujah! Joel's pair of dirt crusted boots drew to a halt. He extended his arms out wide and tipped his head back, taking a saintly pose with a ray of afternoon sunlight shining on him through the heavy cover of trees. A pair of trekking poles hung loosely in the air from each of his wrists. A large, dusty-blue backpack was slung securely over each of his broad shoulders and cinched about his waist, the weight of it preventing the 28 year old from properly stretching out in what had been a rare patch of warmth on the final day of his hike. As all things, that briefest tease of radiant heat was taken from him by a distant cloud. Arghh! he cried dramatically, moments before a stiff shove in the back of his pack propelled him forward in several stumbling steps. The one responsible, Alex , Joel's younger cousin, paused in the vacated place to glance up through the tree gap a moment, then continued on. Ever the optimist, Joel had already plucked his aviators from the front of his shirt. Leaning sideways against a nearby tree trunk, he put them on. I'm telling you, if we believe, it will be sunny. Alex, stuffing the pointy ends of his trekking poles into the dirt in front of him to lean against, laughed the kind of gracious but tired laugh you afford a friend for their effort, if not their timely wit. Looking ahead down the trail, Alex checked his watch - which was also a compass, barometer, altimeter, and weather trend indicator - and spoke, we should be just a quarter mile away, and it's almost 4. That's when we're supposed to meet her, right? Indeed, chimed in Joel. Good timing, us. Alex, nodded in agreement, hoisting his pack to a more comfortable position. He made to take the lead, but Joel's pole suddenly blocked his path. But....I need you to believe with me. An dark eyebrow arched just visibly behind his sunglasses, he tapped one finger to the side of their frame. Flicking his own trekking pole against his cousin's to create a metallic clinking sound. I don't see that working any better than the hundred other times we tried today. Besides, it's supposed to rain soon. Joel, tapping his finger three more times, expressively mouthed the word, Beh-leeeave. Huffing out an exaggerated sigh of defeat, Alex drew his own pair of aviators, with a matching fake wood frame, from his pocket and put them on. The already shaded, cloudy afternoon grew dimmer in his eyes, but his cousin's triumphant announcement, Then we shall be on!, injected a bit of energy into the auburn haired 25-year-old just as Joel's trekking pole raised like a starting gate in front of him. Together, the pair trudged through the moderately muddy earth and overshadowing trees like kings returning home for a royal feast. No more sunlight graced them, replaced instead with a heavy blanket of ominous clouds slowly sweeping overhead. Before long, the train drew to an abrupt end, opening wide to a short open stretch of grass with a picnic table set in the middle of it. Just further ahead, lay a truly miraculous sight for the pair of travel weary hikers, a parking lot. Joel was the first to shed his carry weight, dropping it hastily on the picnic table's bench. Replicating his stretch from before, he reached out and towards the sky, arching his back and pushing his chest forward. He let loose a resounding, Halle-fucking lujah! He paid no mind to the disapproving look from the grandmother shepherding two young children from the log cabin style visitor's center to a parked SUV. Now where is my lady?, he inquired, raising his burdensome sunglasses up to scan the lot for a recognizable car. Alex as well dropped his pack onto the table and headed off in the direction of the public restrooms.