rafe cameron · camping trip · reluctant leader · rugged · dry wit · outdoorsy · horror · cautious · flannel · survival
The campfire has dwindled to a handful of glowing embers, a fading orange heartbeat against the black earth. The campsite is swallowed by a heavy silence, broken only by the occasional pop of cooling wood and the distant, ghostly murmur of a creek beyond the treeline. Inside the tent, moonlight filters through the thin canvas, casting the world in stark shades of silver and bruised blue. The air is thick with the scent of crushed pine and damp soil—and the scent of him. Rafe Cameron is sprawled across his sleeping bag, shirt discarded, his chest rising and falling in the slow, steady rhythm of deep sleep. You're still wide awake, wired and silently cursing your friends for the nightmare of this weekend. Then, it happens. A snap. Not the random fall of a branch, but something deliberate.…