It was clear that, even after Blake had force himself next to Josh, the kid was still about as out of it as he had been before, and only bothered to throw a quick glance Blake's way before returning his gaze to the deep body of water, thoughts almost seeming lost in the mess of greens and blues. He could understand why. Sure, maybe he'd never really been a massive scenery fan, but life had started to get to the point where he'd realised that even the smallest bit of peace and quiet was good, at least then you could hear yourself think. The only problem was, however, was that he'd also discovered how little he liked the buzzing of his own brain - it was like listening to the static of a broken television. It was borderline suffocating. Eventually, Josh turned to respond to him anyway, gaze pulled back to reality by who knows what, but just in time for Blake to avoid feeling like he distinctly wasn't wanted there, and slink off to annoy someone else instead.
"Yeah, I guess it is," Blake agreed, gaze following Josh up and down before swapping back out to the lake for the umpteenth time, hands pulling restlessly against his sleeves as his heels of his worn bounced against the grey rock they were sat on, making a small, repetitive tapping sound with every knock; sitting still was just something he'd never learned to do.
"Although I never once thought I'd consider lake watching to be a good thing when I was little - I'm, like, ten thousand percent sure that if my mum'd sent me to go observe a pool of water for fun when I was little, I would've whacked her around the head with a toy car," he mused, gaze returning to Josh yet again as he forced his feet to stop tapping, a habit that he was trying (and failing) to kill after people in the group had started complaining. Apparently, it was okay to fidget as long as it didn't make a noise or endanger anyone else, but wiping out the small compulsion was harder than he'd thought. Oh well, he'd figure it out, right?
It was almost as soon as his foot tapping had stopped that he heard the splintering of a tree nearby, and his gaze flipped to look at where the noise had come from, fingers automatically curling around the fabric of his shirt as he tried to figure out what it was. Whoever it'd been, they were close enough for the noise to be heard at camp, and yet he doubted the officers had discovered them here yet (they were good, but they weren't that good), so it must be one of them, surely? He pushed his attention back to Josh and, with a cheeky smile, let the words "I bet you four biscuits that was one of us," slip out of his mouth. It was a stupid thing to say, who the hell cared about biscuits anyway? Still, he'd said it, and now he was grinning like an idiot at Josh whilst there was a slight chance of a threat... The guy really didn't understand a lot about survival.
