FILE 25. The Hatred of the Hunt

*Mayfield and Belov presents: Camp Here and There.*

*Episode Twenty Five: The Hatred of the Hunt*

[CLICK]

**SYDNEY**

Hey there, campers! It’s 8:62, and the blazing white light of the sun rising over the horizon is being refracted in all directions by the silvery sky, the misty air, and the glassy water. If you’re one of those people who doesn’t like lotion,  now would be the time to work up the courage to apply some sunscreen. Or at least, like, stay indoors. These are pure UV rays bouncing around camp right now. They will peel you like a banana.

As many of you are probably aware, the source of all that mist is our new, exciting *river!* It extends out from the lake, winds around the campgrounds in a perfect semicircle, then meets the lake again at the other end. The river is extremely narrow, with barely enough room to execute a breaststroke across its width; yet it’s so deep that nobody can see or touch the bottom, despite the surface being completely clear. Also, it’s utterly still and apparently devoid of life, despite the fact that the lake which seems to be its watersource is a rollicking hotbed of creepy critters. Isn’t that funny?

Mila and Juno have both braved the reticent rapids, both of them leaping into the river fully-clothed the moment they noticed it this morning, and the two of them do not appear to have developed any negative symptoms — yet. Lucille has Jedidiah running tests on the chemical content of the river, so we’ll soon find out if it’s actually water.

I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say that I’m most curious about how it got here! The pristine semicircular design smacks of manmade origin, but the kind of magic which would be necessary to carve a river into the Earth by force is the stuff of legend, and I seriously doubt anyone in Ohio can do anything like that. A supremely talented witch could try to *negotiate* with the Earth — to convince the ground that it’s in its best interest to change in some way. But who has the charisma to pull off an entire river? And why would they want to do this in the first place? Perhaps it’s a natural phenomenon after all.

Anyway, if anyone *really* *needs* to go out into the forest today, the river is *probably* safe to swim across, assuming you know how to swim. Even still, I’d not recommend it — veteran Campers who were around for the Fogswath two years ago will be familiar with the Beasts of the Brume, those pesky pheasant-like creatures which are spontaneously generated by foggy environments and whose notable features include skin which is too loose, pores which are too gaping, and a hypercompetitive fraternal culture which venerates spelling bee champions as legendary heroes. Yes, they’re back, lurking in the thick fog which has settled over the forest, and they’re hungry for a sense of intellectual superiority. It could be that we chose the absolute worst day on which to schedule the annual Camp Here & There spelling bee. You kids better brush up!

There’s another concern on my mind, though. A problem which could be a lot more serious than magically generated rivers and birds with academic superiority complexes. There’s a sound reverberating from far in the distance — a sound quite unfamiliar to the denizens of this forest, or any forest around. I’ve brought in Juniper, a local expert who has something he wants to share with you all.

**JUNIPER**

Thank you kindly, Brother Syd!

**SYDNEY**

[*Giggling*] You’re so welcome.

**JUNIPER**

Well, kids and countrymen, a day has arrived. ‘Tis a day which I thought I’d never see in this country, but it seems the American Dream withers rapidly in the steely sights of The Hunt! That’s right, children — I’ve invoked its ancient name. This morning I spotted a shining silver fox in the middle of the camp — that is, a silver creature of the vulpine variety; not a handsome, aging man. The presence of this creature can only mean but one thing — !

*The Hunt is coming.*

[A MOMENT OF SILENCE.]

**SYDNEY**

What is “the Hunt”?

**JUNIPER**

Jolly good question, innit? I’ve asked myself the very same thing, oh, many a time. The scientific answer is that the Hunt is a squad, a cabal, of roving immortals, cursed to spend eternity in a state of maddening pursuit. A group of dashing, hollering men in many-layered coats and period-appropriate wigs and those riding pants with the absurdly large, protruding pockets; accompanied always by their raving bloodhounds; doomed to chase that shining silver fox until the end of days, and then some. They are as likely to catch her as they are to relent — which is to say, they will not. Do either of those things.

**SYDNEY**

Fascinating.

**JUNIPER**

You could call it that. They’re mighty rambunctious fellows, the Hunters. Wherever they go, havoc follows.

**SYDNEY**

Nice!

**JUNIPER**

Now, historically the only redeeming factor to these fellows was that they could not cross water. Some little caveat of their immortality, I reckon. They should’ve read the fine print. Anyway, this hydrophobia meant that the Hunters and all their chaos were confined to their island of origin. However — ! It seems they’ve somehow made it to America. Perhaps this means Britain is no longer an island?

Whatever the cause, since the fox is here, the Hunt is coming, which is, of course, terrible news; imagine the kind of mess they’ll make.

**SYDNEY**

What about the river that showed up around camp? If they can’t cross water, then we’re totally safe.

**JUNIPER**

Ahhhh, yes, the river. Mighty coincidence, that. Rather strains my suspension of disbelief. Isn’t it all too convenient how, just before we’re invaded by rowdy toffs, the campgrounds suddenly acquire a moat? I just don’t believe it was by the whims of Mother Nature. You ask me, it’s another side-effect of that history museum. And you shouldn’t want anything to do with it! I say we escort that silver fox off the grounds as quickly as possible, before the lot of us get all tangled up in a nasty old cobweb of nasty old magic!

**SYDNEY**

Well, I don’t want to just toss the poor thing out there where it can keep getting harassed by those antique jerks! They’ve been chasing it around for centuries. Doesn’t it deserve to rest for a while?

**JUNIPER**

Sydney, mate, your intentions are noble, but trust me, the delicate relationship between the Hunt and its fox is best left undisturbed.

**SYDNEY**

It’s a harmful one. She must be so scared, y’know? I’m going to invite her into my office.

**JUNIPER**

You’re going to harbor the Hunt’s silver fox?

**SYDNEY**

I think I am.

**JUNIPER**

Well. The prospect of that is horrific, but honestly, I’m on my third week without decent coffee, and I don’t rightly have the energy to try and stop you. Best of luck with this barmy scheme, old friend! Hope you don’t get us all killed.

[JUNIPER RISES FROM HIS CHAIR AND WALKS AWAY]

**SYDNEY**

Thank you, Juniper! It’s an honor to have your support.

(ahem) For today’s breakfast we have an eel’s head stuck upon a 500-year-old sword and slathered with pea mush — a hometown delicacy suggested by Juniper. He says they call it “scrumpledydumps!” Aaaaaand for this morning’s activity, we have the spelling bee — although it’s more like a spelling *wasp* with how aggressive *we* get! Remember, on top of your sun lotion you should apply a layer of spelling lotion — the lotion we all apply before we spell things, every single time. Goooood luck!

[CLICK]

**SYDNEY**

Welcome to food, campers! The sky is a blinding kaleidoscope, and all I taste is fire! Let’s give it up for 12:85!

I know you sweet little firehawks are worrying yourself silly about the state of the beautiful silver fox who found herself on our campgrounds this misty morning. Though I think you all gave her a good fright earlier, with all that clamoring to peek into the nurse’s office and get a good look at her, I’m happy to report that she seems healthy, energetic, and quite sweet! But she hides whenever someone else enters the room, and it takes quite a bit of doing to coax her back into the open afterwards, so please, only enter the nurse’s office if you require my ameliorative services. For the time being, Vixen Visitation is not available.

And I imagine some of you are wondering how I managed to convince this magnificent creature to join me in my office in the first place! It was a simple matter of knowing my animal handling, really. As any two-bit park ranger could tell you, there’s nothing foxes find more intriguing and alluring than astronomy, and I figured that the silver fox would be no different, though she may be centuries old and from a completely different continent. And my suspicions proved correct! All I had to do was wobble my celestial maps around in the window a few times, and she hungrily leapt inside.

She’s such a darling creature, although I’m still working on learning how to take care of her. I haven’t figured out what she eats, or if this eternal and possibly purely magical creature even needs to eat — but I have figured out where she likes to be scratched! But I’ll never tell you. That’s between her and me.

I tell you, kids, I keep looking over at that fox, curled up in a kid-sized cot, and… just the sight nearly moves me to tears, every time. Y’know… small animals like her, they’ve got hard enough lives already. Even without being… eternally cursed to get chased around in circles… constantly tired, constantly afraid, not even allowed to die… and — and you know what pisses me off the most? It’s not even her curse! She’s just an accessory to the *Hunt’s* curse! She’s faced with an eternity of torment and it’s not even *about* her. She’s just a hapless tool. And she gets *no* say. She doesn’t get anything at all. Everything in her life is just overwhelmed by pain, and fear, and the never ending struggle to avoid it.

… Moving on. We were all a bit worried about this year’s spelling bee, what with the ghastly Beasts of the Brume skulking and squawking just out of sight, ready to pounce on any crucible of intellect we might dare erect. But our good friend Counselor Rowan pulled through, as we learned when he emerged from the tunnel entrance on the edge of the sports field with some unlikely allies in tow: a horde of penguin footsoldiers, sporting intricate warpaint and man-sized claymores. Many of us immediately attempted to flee or hide, as the memory of the brutal massacre the penguins perpetrated at the beginning of this Summer was still fresh in our minds. But to our surprise, the penguins came to our defense, scouring the fog and smacking the brains out of any Beast they came across. Seems there’s only room for one species of dirty bird in this camp!

Anyhow, thanks to the heroics of those huggable, fluffable extortionists, our spelling bee was able to proceed as planned. Hooray! In celebration, I will now list this year’s spelling bee champions!

* In first place, Cabin Magpie Moth resident Bryce Negley, who won with the word [SO MANY DIFFERENT WORDS LAYERED OVER EACH OTHER IT’S UNINTELLIGIBLE]!
* Then, in second place, Cabin Tarantula Hawk resident Scranz Gregcktson, who managed to spell [LENGTHY SUCCESSION OF CLOWN HONKS] without breaking a sweat!
* And, in third place, Cabin Silkworm Resident Treebart McMann, who wowed us with her unconventional spelling of [INDISCRIMINATE CAVALCADE OF RANDOM NOISES]!

And, of course, I will now list some of the most grisly injuries sustained in this year’s spelling bee.

* In first place, Cabin Grasshopper resident Leonard Stykeson, who sent us reeling after one look at his scraped knee.
* In second place, Cabin Ladybug’s Tammy “Teeth” Teeth, who shocked and horrified us with… her teeth.
* And in third place, Cabin Tarantula Hawk resident Lizabet Strange, who straight-up apotheosed into godhood right there on the stage. This would be higher on the list, except for that she pulls this trick every year. It’s time to diversify, buddy!

Keen kids may notice that no campers from Cabin Dungbeetle showed up on that list, and that’s because the campers of Cabin Dungbeetle chose to opt out of the contest, instead spending all morning attempting to use astral projection to reach the bottom of the river. I… hesitate to quash this spirit of ingenuity, but I must remind you all that astral projection is wildly dangerous. Who knows what unfathomable monstrosities lurk in the ethereal projection of this camp? You could meet a demon! Or worse, a human! I’d just advise you to undertake this sort of thing with the guidance of an experienced counselor.

In related news, experiments with the river are an ongoing interest. Various attempts to measure its depth — including an attempt by Marisol and Joshua to tape a bunch of meter sticks together and shove the resulting contraption down there; and an attempt by Juniper to employ a fisherman’s technique he learned in his hometown, which he referred to as “The Old Pump and Muddle” — have proven inconclusive. The lake, for comparison, is only around twenty feet deep in most spots — except when it gets angry, of course. This is quite a trench that the camp is now playing host to!

The staff has learned other things, too. With a PH of 11, the water of the river is actually too alkaline to drink safely, although swimming in it has continually proven quite safe for Juno and Mila. Still, some counselors are advocating for the construction of a bridge, but Lucille is unwilling to sign off on it in case the River disappears as quickly as it appeared and the camp ends up with a random bridge on the ground nearby. While I can sympathize with her concerns, I think a freestanding bridge might make for a bold landscaping statement! Help us stand out against our nearby rival camps! Of which there are, of course, none. Yet.

Alright, kids. Matthew’s cooked up some real delights for your lunch today — I couldn’t quite make it out, but I think he said something about horse divorce and a very amused bush. And try not to worry too much about the ominous sounds emanating from the forest, and seemingly growing louder with each minute — the baying of hounds, the clinking of teacups, the jeering of men, etcetera. The penguins have sent a corps of their bravest out into the forest to drive the Hunt back, so hopefully our new camp mascot will be able to find true solace here, once and for all.

See you this evening!

[CLICK]

[CLICK]

[THERE IS THE SOUND OF A MOB YELLING AND JEERING IN THE BACKGROUND]

**SYDNEY**

H-hello, campers. I hope I am…

[CRASH]

… audible to you over that horrible ruckus. The time is 19:01 PM… the sky is no longer glittery silver, but metallic and harsh. The penguins have abandoned us. The day is coming to an end. And the Hunt… has… arrived.

Yes, they are powerful. The confusion they wrought upon the penguin vanguard seems to have been nothing short of legendary. Half the penguins sent out to fight the Hunt ended up *joining* them, and are now dancing, drinking, and brawling along with the best of ‘em on the edge of the river. So there’s no telling what these men could do to our little camp if they were allowed to run rampant over it. But… I really don’t think they’re going to get across that river. They’ve been teetering at the edge, daring each other to jump across, for hours now.

Still, kids, it’s probably best you don’t leave the cafeteria for now. I think they’ve started throwing barstools and teacups at us… Juniper says it’s only a matter of time before they get tired of jeering and start using siege tactics to try and smoke out the fugitives we’re harboring. And I did say fugitives, *plural —* not only is their prized fox in my care, but Jedidiah has also earned their ire after attempting to inform them that there is no longer a British Empire, and now they’re threatening to execute him for slander and treason.

Although Juniper also seemed pretty confused when he heard that there wasn’t a British Empire, so… maybe nobody over there has gotten the memo.

Augh… I have another concern, though — I can’t figure out what this poor fox eats. I’ve offered her everything I can think of, from bugs to bats to buttered bread and even some hard candy from my candy drawer. She just won’t accept it, and all the while she grows weaker by the minute. She’s just lying there now, barely breathing… please, if anyone has any ideas —

[THERE IS A CRASH AS A BARSTOOL BREAKS AGAINST THE SIDE OF THE NURSE’S BUILDING. THE CROWD CHEERS RAUCOUSLY]

AGGH! I can barely hear myself think over those stupid — UGH!

[SYDNEY OPENS THE WINDOW. HE LEANS OUT]

**WILL YOU SHUT UP, YOU — OVERDRESSED, OVERCOOKED FRAT BOYS!? THIS IS A SUMMER CAMP, NOT YOUR BACCHANAL!!** [*COUGH COUGH*] **I KEEP TELLING YOU, THE FOX IS NOT HERE!!!! I —**

[WHIMPER WHIMPER]

Honey? What is it? You want… out there?

[WHIMPER]

… Hold tight, kids. Go ahead and start eating dinner — Matthew’s prepared you clamshells with surprise insides. I’ll… be right back.

[CLICK]

**SYDNEY**

Hey kids. It’s 19:15, and I’ve learned an important lesson today. I hope you’re all enjoying your clam surprises as much as I’m enjoying my newfound wisdom.

I thought I was rescuing the fox from a fate worse than death. I thought I was keeping her safe. But when I opened that window, and she perked up, I realized two things. First, I realized that what the fox eats was — much like the hive, or the goo — pathological energy: in this case, the manic energy of the Hunt. She feeds off their insatiable desire to capture her; the violence they imagine and the shouts they unleash. Sounds kind of awful, I know. But really, it’s just nature.

But the second and more important thing that I realized was that I was not the good guy here. I coaxed her, manipulated her, into my office. I kept her trapped there; I was intent on keeping her forever. Sure, it was for her safety; it was for her sake. But no amount of care can justify imposing my will on her like that. Because in the end, I wasn’t giving her a say. Which made me no better than whatever sick Brit spun this curse in the first place.

… So anyway. After I realized this, I scooped the sweet creature up and ran outside. After one last hug goodbye and a kiss on the head, I tossed her across the river, and she scampered off to unknown parts of the forest. With whoops and hollers of gratitude and jubilation, the Hunt moved on, charging past us and disappearing into the trees. Even now, their shouts grow dimmer by the second. And you know what? I wish them luck. All of them.

Except the penguins who decided to join them. You’re our camp penguins! Come back!!

In other news, it seems that several kids from Cabin Dung Beetle have successfully astral projected to the bottom of the river. They claim that it is hundreds — nay, *thousands* of feet deep, and that untold monstrosities of inconceivable magnitudes reside in those depths. They advise their fellow campers and counselors never to do what they have done; they assure us, with little smirks and smug nods, that they were permanently traumatized by the experience.

You children are free to come meet me in the nurse’s office. I’m here to talk you through this horrible experience.

AAAAAND for this evening’s activities, we’ll be celebrating the brutal cycles of nature with a game of Pain Telephone. Goodnight, campers. I’ll see you tomorrow. And the next day after that… and the next day after that… and the next day after that… and the next day after that… and the next day after th[CLICK]

[CLICK]

[CASSETTE WHIRRING]

**JEDIDIAH [ON RECORDING]**

– and it’s missing something. I’m constantly being taken out of the experience. I never get to feel like an adventurer exploring a fantastical world, I’m always aware that I’m playing a game.

**SYDNEY [ON RECORDING]**

M-hm.

**JEDIDIAH [O.R.]**

And that could be fine, immersion isn’t the be-all-end-all of video games, except this game clearly wants you to feel immersed. They put so much work into the graphics, into making these — breathtaking vistas.

**SYDNEY [O.R.]**

Right.

**JEDIDIAH [O.R.]**

They want you to stop and marvel at the world you’re in.

**SYDNEY [O.R.]**

Right.

**JEDIDIAH [O.R.]**

But then they shot themselves in the foot, ‘cause that’s all the game has going for it. They couldn’t afford bug testing, or more than four voice actors, or writers to come up with more than one type of sidequest. So if you’re like me, and you’re not that moved by breathtaking vistas . . . . .

**SYDNEY [O.R.]**

It’s hollow.

**JEDIDIAH [O.R.]**

Exactly.

**SYDNEY [O.R.]**

It sounds really boring.

**JEDIDIAH [O.R.]**

It was… the biggest disappointment of my adolescent life.

**SYDNEY [O.R.]**

[*Laughs*]

**JEDIDIAH [O.R.]**

You know, sue me, but $60 was my life savings when I was that age, and I thought it would go to more than just a — breathtaking vista simulator.

**SYDNEY [O.R.]**

Yeah.

**JEDIDIAH [O.R.]**

… are you recording this?

**SYDNEY [O.R.]**

[*Giggling*]

**JEDIDIAH [O.R.]**

Oh my God.

**SYDNEY [O.R.]**

You just get so busy!

**JEDIDIAH [O.R.]**

What does that have to do with anything?

**SYDNEY [O.R.]**

I like to have your voice on hand. It helps when I miss you.

**JEDIDIAH [O.R.]**

That is freakish.

**SYDNEY [O.R.]**

[*Laughing, feigning offense*] Freakish!?

**JEDIDIAH [O.R.]**

[*Amused*] I feel like most people, if you did this to them, they would not be happy.

**SYDNEY [O.R.]**

Are you most people?

**JEDIDIAH [O.R.]**

Unfortunately, no.

**SYDNEY [O.R.]**

Unfortunately!?

**JEDIDIAH [O.R.]**

I’m cursed to find freakishness endearing.

**SYDNEY [O.R.]**

You are blessed with me.

**JEDIDIAH [O.R.]**

Yeah. Whatever. Um… we should sleep.

**SYDNEY [O.R.]**

Aww.

**JEDIDIAH [O.R.]**

Don’t ‘*aww*’ me. I don’t know about you, but I’m here to get an education.

**SYDNEY [O.R.]**

Whatever, but I’ll miss you.

**JEDIDIAH [O.R.]**

Goodnight, Sydney.

**SYDNEY [O.R.]**

Bleh.

[THERE IS A LONG PAUSE]

**SYDNEY [O.R.]**

… wanna hear a joke?

**JEDIDIAH [O.R.]**

.

**SYDNEY [O.R.]**

What does James Bond do before bed?

**JEDIDIAH [O.R.]**

Sydney.

**SYDNEY [O.R.]**

[*Bursts out laughing jovially*]

[THE RECORDING CLICKS OFF]

[A CLOCK IS TICKING]

**SYDNEY**

… [*Sigh*] Febuary 2015…

[CLICK]

*Today’s episode was written by Blue Mayfield and Nicholas Belov. The part of Sydney Sargent was played by Blue Mayfield. The part of Jedidiah Martin was played by Nicholas Belov. The part of Juniper Sloan was played by Tom Laflin. Camp Here & There is the sole intellectual property of its production company, Mayfield & Belov. All music composed by Will Wood, and produced by Jonathon Maisto. Sound editing by Emily Safko and Blue Mayfield. Special thanks to our Patrons: SyndeyMyBeloved, Montey, four rats and a crow, Silver Weiss, Lauren Wade, and Emerald’s Mom.*

*For behind-the-scenes material, exclusive canonical content, interactive events, and early episode access, consider signing up for our Patreon at patreon.com/mayfieldandbelov. Our discord server is a great place to meet like-minded fellows and discuss today’s episode — find the link at mayfieldandbelov.com. Lastly, if you’d like to support us, the best thing you can do is to spread the word about the show.*

*Thank you for listening to Camp Here & There! And remember: the tree also finds human fear nauseating.*