Eva glanced up and watched how the mist swirled along the distant tree-tops, like some creamy and delicious concoction -- as if it were cotton candy the color of wet sugar. She frowned and felt the rumbling in her stomach as the seemingly vast emptiness of her hunger reminded her that she was an idiot for skipping breakfast, and also for scheduling this date so early in the morning. Of course, she checked her wristwatch for what felt like the hundredth time. The tiny golden hand, measuring seconds, ticked along gracefully over a mother-of-pearl watch face.

“Tick-tock…” she said aloud, before turning to glance back at the empty parking lot.

Her date hadn’t arrived yet.

He was fifteen minutes late.

It wasn’t so bad, given the unique location of this romantic rendezvous. However, she had her doubts about her gentleman friend’s intention to actually follow through with this outing. During their last date, in a more traditional urban setting, she had been awkward and quiet. But it wasn't for lack of interest. Her mind was heavy with troubles. Lately, all she seemed capable of doing was worrying and fretting over her family’s failing estate.

“If he’s not here in fifteen minutes…” She didn’t want to finish the out-loud thought, but she knew that if she didn’t say it -- if she didn’t breathe her conviction into the chill morning air -- then she would never follow through.

The thought carried her through a cold breeze that blew out from the trees at the edge of the trailhead. She marveled at the fact that the forest seemed colder than the wide, open clearing of the parking lot. Whatever the case, it made her pull her black, waterproof jacket a little bit tighter around her shoulders, pulling at the collar and hood until half her face disappeared and she didn’t see her breath anymore.

The small engine whirred, the loud pipe called as both shattered any silence with their parabolic approach. The tires kicking gravel on the last common road as he approached the turn for the parking lot. Turning onto a rocky muddy trail which had evidence that vehicles occasionally used. The tires now splashing and drifting through mud puddles as the engine's sound pogo-ed with the travel through the holes. The sound shift of his travel being cut short when bouncing off a passing tree. The acoustics of the moss, the damp bark, stones and logs allowed for the off road motorcycle to howl loud and far.

He knew exactly where he was going. He knew these woods very well already in his duration while each day his knowledge of the area grew. Ethan felt far more comfortable as every hour passed. Avoiding complacency, he maintained the confidence in his knowledge. That was necessary for survival.

His pack bounced on his back with each puddle while he stood on the bike like a mount through the mud and mist. As he approached the secluded parking lot his eyes focused when he noticed a vehicle. He slowed the bike down the slightest as he looked around the area. Now seeing one vehicle, how many people were around? Were more expected? All the questions to consider and keep in mind when living in the woods as he was. He continued his approach the same regardless as to not seem too suspicious. He'll see how it looks. Size people up, before deciding how to handle the situation.

As he pulled up he seen a woman standing alone, bundled up in her coat and layers. He slowed as he approached, lifting a hand in the gesture of a greeting. His attention keeping on every where else while his focus remained on her. His bike lulled to a idle as he turned the bike off. He kicked the stand out and parked the bike. Trying not to give too much attention to her yet. She seemed expecting of something, seemed annoyed and now concerned. He stood and removed his helmet which allowed steam to escape from the heat of his travel against the cold air of the land. He ran his hair back then secured his helmet to the motorcycle. He turned toward the woman with a charming smile as he swung his pack from his shoulder, setting on the ground to adjust for his next travel.

"There is a lot more to this park than this lot, you know." He opened with a charming tease to his words. The ice breaker was was always so important. It wouldn't always be necessary but assisted greatly.

His view returned to his pack on the ground, open and organizing through it to tidy up quickly.

Fifteen minutes later—or was it fourteen?—sixteen maybe?—the red Mustang arrived in the parking lot otherwise on time. Windows down, music loud, a single occupant, a man, who sang along to the song as if the world was his and he shouldn’t give a damn because there was only one girl in it for him.

Parking his girl—other girl, that is—Susan, her name was—that Mustang—its driver rolled the windows up, switched the music off, took the key out of the ignition, got out, backpack on back and a blue leather jacket, and yawned with his arms to the sky. “Hi!” He looked left, looked right. Spotted another guy. Nice bike.

“Did you have breakfast?” He asked Eva. “I had some peanut butter toast. Burnt it. Kinda rushin’ out this mornin’. I got this Slim Jim though.” He offered half of it to her. “Sorry, buddy.” He didn’t have enough to share with the other person. The stuff in his backpack had to be maintained.

“We ready?” Brad asked Eva happily, if cluelessly. The trees looked misty. Creepy…

@Blesses Blight @Czelsc

She heard him coming from a mile away. The sound of his motorcycle’s engine was so out of place amidst the sacred sounds of the wilderness. It was loud, mechanical, and ugly -- it made her turn her head in the direction of its path. And then, much to her dismay, the loud and clamorous sound turned a corner and headed directly toward her. Never, in all of her life, had she looked favorably upon motorcycles. She thought they were dangerous and that only those people who did not value their lives sought to use them as a regular means of transportation.

It was hard to hide the negative judgment she felt -- more so when the bike came at a standstill not but ten feet away from her. He had waved, to the man on the bike, but she had not returned the gesture. In fact, she had not moved, not even to turn her body, for it had been sufficient to turn her head upon the pillar of her neck. It was a pretty neck, long and pale, and graceful even when mostly hidden in the high neckline of her shirt and the pulled-up collar of her jacket.

The man made a whole spectacle of hitting the kickstand and throwing one wide leg off of the vehicle he had been straddling. And while he glanced, sideways, in her direction, he turned away to focus on his tasks.

It did something to dispel her anxiety. The last thing she wanted was to be alone in such a remote location with a complete stranger -- especially one who was unhinged enough to ride a motorcycle. But the man hardly seemed interested in her existence, and that soothed away some of her concerns. However, she remembered that show on Ted Bundy she had seen. The sick-fuck had pretended to have some broken limb, an arm or a leg perhaps, all for the sake of appearing more sympathetic and less dangerous.

No, it was best that she didn’t drop her guard.

She kept her body turned toward him, but specifically, toward the entrance to the trailhead. Her body language shifted, her arms came and crossed under her chest, and she made a very open show of glancing down at her watch again, making it abundantly clear that she was waiting for someone -- and that someone was expecting to find her here.

“There is a lot more to this park than this lot, you know.”

In the same way that he had gone out of his way to ignore her existence, she had very much done the same and therefore was rather caught off guard by his sudden boldness.

Arched brows, perfectly manicured, frowned. But she remembered, it was best not to be confrontational. She was alone with a strange man in the middle of an empty parking lot that led to one of the most desolate lakes in the entire state of Washington. Even if she didn’t want to, for the sake of her own safety, she would have to play nice.

“Oh yeah? I would have never guessed.”

She flashed a smile -- a friendly expression, but not too friendly.

“I mean, I am here with all this hiking gear…”

She wasn’t entirely sure where she was going with her line of commentary. Eva was always a little bit awkward.

And then there was another sound, and for a moment she turned her gaze from the man kneeling not all that far from where she stood, and back to the opening drive of the parking lot. Another vehicle was coming.

She saw the flash of red through the trees as the Mustang came at a dangerous gallop around the corner, sending gravel raining into the tree line. Her expression soured somewhat -- her eyes narrowing. With Brad’s arrival came the sound of new machinery, his car, but also music. The rich and exciting sound of it filled the small clearing.

It was difficult to stay annoyed at him. He was so much like a young boy -- happy, excitable, and just a ray of sunshine. The complete opposite of her. He’d be good for her if she could just let him in.

He parked and came out of his car, and she could nearly envision him as a golden retriever.

“Hi!”

“Hi, Brad,” she answered, “I nearly got started without you…” Her attempt to tease sounded way more serious than it should have. She immediately regretted saying it and feared that things were starting on the wrong foot.

“Did you have breakfast?"

She shook her head.

“I had some peanut butter toast. Burnt it.”

Eva laughed, she couldn’t help it -- her voice, for the first time, sounded light and pretty.

“Kinda rushin’ out this mornin’. I got this Slim Jim though. Sorry, buddy.”

Brad offered half to her, but she declined with a shake of her head. She looked over her shoulder at Ethan, who appeared to still be busy fixing something in his backpack.

“I prefer for my meat to be real, thank you very much.”

“We ready?”

Eva opened the back door to her silver-colored Land Cruiser -- a tank of a car, a gift from her father. It was used, but they just didn’t make the vehicle anymore. She adored it. She reached into the back seat pulled her backpack out and swung it over her shoulder.

“I am ready,” she replied, stealing a glance at Ethan as she and Brad began their trek.

She made sure to lock her car door.

Ethan was still kneeling over his backpack which he set atop his boot so the bottom would not get wet from the damp morning forest ground. His back facing the forest as he was partially turned toward his bike and the entrance in her direction. He continued sifting through gently, seeming busy.

When she had responded to him, he looked back up to her with a flash of a smile. As he was about to say some response, he heard the loud announcement of her prince arriving. His eyes lift up and followed her attention down the road to see this mustang coming up.
“Ah. Here her anticipation arrives…” He thought to himself. There was an expectation given her demeanor and obsession with her watch.

As the mustang pulled up to park, Ethan turned his body just the slightest bit more toward this guy.

“Hi Brad.”

“Ahh… Brad.” Further information he began to collect. His angle was squaring off with this man’s.. with Brad’s exiting of his car and approach while Ethan remained crouched over and focused in his bag. He were ready should he had to. Had to, or wanted to? He would have enough leverage with his body to take Brad down quickly. The disruptive hit of Ethan’s weight against Brad would be his advantage. There would be too much to deal with here in this situation though. He couldn’t let it get to such a point. Thankfully Brad seemed to be the happy-go-lucky guy who wouldn’t think too far with getting into a fight with a stranger. Ethan began to relax a little.

Brad apologized with the lack of jerky, which Ethan waved off as no problem.
“No… you’ll need it more than I will.” His thoughts challenged himself.

As they began to depart and look back at him one more time, Ethan flashed a big, kind, friendly smile with another quick wave of his hand. A good luck on your departure gesture.

The moment their backs turned, his smile immediately disappeared. Without a blink or movement of his eyes which turned large and flat. His face stone. As fake as any smile could have been, yet manipulative enough.

His gaze kept up at them as he moved the few things on top back in place, securing his pack then sealing it. He did not have to look down at his task, for there had been no need for it. There was no need at all for him to open his bag. Everything was already packed away accordingly. Weight dispersed properly. It was merely an act to buy him time. To size up his situation as he had said. He kept the bag on the ground as he stood now and adjusted his jacket to confirm the concealment of the bowie knife attached to his belt on his back. Another reason for him to square off with Brad. Another reason to keep his back turned to the forest from them. To hide it as well as to be prepared.

He stood near his bike and viewed the area. They were out of sight now. He could hear and sense they were far. This was a mess. He planned his trips for supplies to avoid interacting with others. Regardless of the motorcycle being stolen, the tire marks were associated with their two vehicles in this area. The nature and mud holes on the stretch here would not be an issue, but the gravel was a concern. There was little he could do with that area now besides hope that Brad drove like a maniac enough to cover Ethan’s tire tracks. This parking lot would be another issue though. The rain would help but the canopy of the trees would prevent the amount needed to help damage the tracks. He walked along until finding a large enough log and returned to the lot. Everywhere he could see his bike’s tire marks, Ethan leaned down, placing the log into the mud and drug it toward him as he backed up to the bike. Grooving away any tire mark of his.

Now that his tracks were literally covered he took the log far off to the side of the lot before throwing it even further. He heard the crack explosion of the wood as it split apart from the rot inside after the impact. It benefit him greatly that they had left first. Now returning to his bike, he tossed his pack back on and secured the straps on him. He kicked the bike’s support and began pushing the bike up a separate path. Something that could have seem like some dark green trail. He turned around to check his bike tires again, being sure to use more rocks and roots to trek the bike rather than the ground for now.

He looked to the distance, to their direction, as he pushed the bike up the way. His mind mapping out their geography. Ethan knew what trail they were taking. What sights were offered to stop at along the trail. He began estimating their timing of locations and anticipating the duration of their hike given the amount of gear they packed along.

The day was young.

Sometimes words took a turn of hindsight, in retrospect, for better or worse, or whatever the heck, as Brad just stood there crossing one brow and raising the other, then reversing either, remembering other words only moments earlier after he’d already finished speaking.

To Brad’s offer of a Slim Jim for some much needed breakfast, Eva had mentioned she preferred her meat to be real, which left her third date questioning whether tonight would finalize with some well-deserved action.

That other guy? Brad didn’t catch his name but what the hey. Just gave a big, kind, friendly smile anyway to which the man with the Mustang returned. “Nice bike.” He repeated his thoughts aloud that time.

“Aight den.” He said as he turned to Eva. “Let’s get to trekkin, I reckon!” He snapped his fingers like a man who had suddenly discovered treasure. “Trekkin’. Reckon. Might put those rhymes in my lyrics? Whaddya say we discuss it on the way as we make the magic happen and—”

The rest would be lost to any watcher or pervert as the pair walked along and disappeared from the parking lot to the trail veiled by mist and other shit. “Spider Lake Trailhead.” Brad nodded as he chewed on trail mix, offering his partner a raisin sandwiched between a pair of peanuts if she wanted it.

“Sounds ominous.” He sniffed, picking up the scent of dampness, like morning dew, only moldy, amid decaying foliage. Shit. Why’d she pick this place again? Does she hate me already? He scratched an itch on his stomach.

“Ominous. Sound like a good band name? Jack thinks my violin is a perfect piece for our folk rock image.” He shrugged as he slipped an M&M between his lips. “Not that I like to define my band, that is. It’s more like ‘rock folk’ meets ‘folk rock’, Omnia meets Beethoven meets Ozzy Osbourne and— Shit.”

Brad paused their walk, snapped his fingers, frowning down at his missus in the makin’. He looked like someone had just walked over his grave and stomped on it the next second. “I forgot to bring the bacon.”

@Blesses Blight @Czelsc

Brad was a talker. Lucky for him, his voice was not unpleasant. She didn’t mind listening, because it certainly didn’t seem like he was interested in a conversation with her. Sure, he turned to look at her every now and then. Mostly, it seemed, to make sure she was listening. And every time he landed his gaze upon her she was looking right back at him, a smile on her face. It was better if she didn’t have to talk -- better if she didn’t have to try and make up small talk.

They weren’t too far into the trail before Brad announced the name of the trail.

“Spider Lake Trailhead…Sounds ominous.”

She gladly accepted his offer of peanuts and raisins.

“It isn’t really,” she said, chewing on the bit of trail mix he’d shared. She figured they would find a place to rest in an hour or so, and she could eat some of her snacks there. “It’s called that because…well, it sort of looks like a spider from an aerial view. The big main body, and then several protruding branches -- little creeks and such.”

Eva shrugged a bit and hooked her thumbs into the straps of her backpack, pulling on them to ease some of the tension on her shoulders. She had packed light, but she wasn’t accustomed to hiking, and walking with gear on her back was something she hadn’t done since her high school days.

“Onimous,” Brad repeated.

She looked at him with pinched brows.

“Sounds like a good band name?”

She wondered if he was really asking -- if he was, she’d tell him that no, it did not sound like a good band name. But he wasn’t really asking. He just kept talking.

“Jack thinks my violin is a perfect piece for our folk rock image.”

She noticed he had eaten an M&M and frowned internally at the fact that he had not given her any chocolate. Turning to stare straight ahead, she kept walking, as the trail began to climb to a gentle incline. But the ground was wet, and there were smooth, mossy stones along the path which were far more slippery than they appeared

“Not that I like to define my band, that is. It’s more like ‘rock folk’ meets ‘folk rock’, Omina meets Beethoven meets Ozzy Osbourn, and -- Shit.”
Brad came to a sudden stop and the sound of his fingers making a sharp and hard snap caused her to stop as well, and turn. She lost her footing in that moment and felt her heel slide forward causing her to lose all sense of balance. And with her thumbs hooked into her backpack, she didn’t have time to reach out and catch herself.

Eva landed on her ass just as Brad lamented that he had not brought bacon.

Maybe it was his nervousness, but talking did distract him from the environment he was in, allowing for pockets of responses from his mistress. A mistress beside a gentleman, that was; a woman by a man, and not much else to it.

The problem with speech was people often mistook the briefest of pauses for an instance to interject, especially when it came to a sniff, but the reality was people didn’t always make a reply the split second after someone said something. Sometimes the reply to more than one sentence came afterwards.

Granted, Brad had been more focused on speaking than how word structure might look if it was written amid lyrics, but he did focus on Spider Lake Trailhead being less ominous of a forest than a city’s spaghetti junction—but even that was ominous.

Brad would have offered chocolate that very moment amid a nibble of nut and raisin but suddenly bacon had stolen his brain and then in the next instant Eva had landed on her ass. Was he supposed to catch her? He’d debate it later.

“You okay?” He blinked down at her, his thumbs dipped into the straps of his backpack. “My buddy said to always check your footing.” He offered his hand at last. “And bring snackpacks for midnight pudding.” Crap. Forgot those too.

Some time later the pair of adventurers found a small forest clearing of which to set up camp. It was by a creek that Brad promptly used to wash his face, drying his face on his jacket and his hands on his jeans, then his jacket and jeans at the campfire after slipping on a leaf and landing on his ass in the creek.

At the fire, he sat in a white T-Shirt and red plaid boxers with a stick to the flame with a marshmallow at the end of it. “You know, a marshmallow is like life,” he advised Eva. “It’s fluffy in the beginning, you can shape it like Play-Doh, but when it touches the reality of fire, well, it gets dark and dim and it burns and OH SHIT MY MARSHMALLOW” Brad’s began to burst into bright flames as he gazed, horrified.

@Blesses Blight @Czelsc