“Bad idea, ladies,” he whispered into the wind, unheard. An hour later, they managed to get one tent up and decided it was good enough, dropping furry rugs on the ground and shuffling to make room as they sat. A radio and wine bottle were taken out, the latter poured into glasses as they toasted.
“To a grand adventure,” one announced.
“To a night of celebrating our wins.”
“Followed by a day of reaching the real campsite, where I heard hot guys like to hang out.”
There were giggles and hearty agreements, then the radio turned on, and music blasted at a concerning level. He fought the urge to drop down there and give them a warning, certain it would only amount to instilling fear until they panicked and ran—and got lost. Nico observed them until the volume was lowered and they chattered in bright voices over wine, cheese, and other packed food. When they brought out nightgowns and began undressing, he shook his head in disbelief and climbed down from his tree spot, landing soundlessly to not disturb them. Then he ambled his way towards his cottage, which looked like a mound of leaves to an outsider but had the essentials inside, too.
“They will get themselves in trouble if they keep this up. An accident. Attracting bad forces. Someone getting hurt…”
Wait. Were the likes of them the ones who caused the stir in this area?
He tossed and turned for a bit, uneasy at the idea of sleeping. Then he pushed off the cot and was out of there in no time, deciding there was only one way to find out. Maybe if it was unruly humans and nothing else, he could just write it off as harmless and find a way to drive them out before he went home. The idea appealed, putting a bounce to his steps as he ventured closer. Relief poured in when he found them inside their tent that was sealed shut; the radio turned off as they settled in for the night.
Nico got comfortable on his tree and closed his eyes, deciding to stick around for a bit. He was still there when murmurs restarted before the tent was zipped open as they stumbled out and into sleeping bags, grumbling the whole way.
“Too hot. Why the hell is this place too hot?”
“It’s the tent. You bought a bad one. Ah, it’s better here. Finally.”
Amusement flitted in when they approved in unison while he silently disagreed. He smiled when one picked up wrappers and stuffed them in a bag.
“We have to keep the place clean. Bears are attracted to the scent of food.”
“There are no bears around here. Go to sleep.”
“Shut up, girls. I’m drunk and trying to sleep.”
Another giggle, another grumbling. He dozed off when silence filled the space and he was confident they would be safe here for a while, then blinked awake when an owl hooted nearby. His gaze landed on the small creature, wide orbs staring at him. He smirked.
The whiff of blood slithered up his nostrils, cutting the smirk off like a hot knife as his focus snapped down to count the sleeping figures. Three. The tent was still closed, and the fourth could be inside, but instinct had him climbing down. He crept as close as he could towards their clearing, then stopped when the smell returned, and he spotted a dark smudge on a leaf.
Immediately, he was on alert and braced to shift as he trailed after the blood and was not just outside the camp but in the forest. When it led very much out of his clan’s territory, he had a moment of dilemma before abandoning protocol and continuing down his path until he reached a larger streak of blood, discarded shoes and—
“Shit. Holy shit. This is a disaster. They can’t see me like this.”
It was the woman who had insisted that camping instead of clubbing was the best way to celebrate, panicking as she rummaged in the bag she dragged with her and got out wipes and a shirt, then squeaked when she yanked sanitary pads out. Her panic brought him relief as he understood what was going on, so he backed out as fast as he could to give her the privacy she needed. The woman emerged from her bushy hiding place with a stain on her sweatpants, but she covered it with a jacket and even did the extra step of wiggling the soil in some areas where she glimpsed the blood. Again, he followed her at a safe distance, covering the spots she had missed and peeking at her return to the forest.
A protesting voice rose, then another. The woman ran in response, hauling her bag, then looked around frantically before gasping. Nico’s body surged to break into the clearing but logic dictated him to stay away, so he hoisted himself up another tree until he could view the clearing and hear their words.
“I saw something. I thought that was you.”
“Something grabbed me.”
“My shoes are missing!”
“Your shoes are with me,” the woman with the period announced, returning them sheepishly. “I thought I heard something, and your shoes were the nearest. Sorry.”
“These are designer shoes, you know.” There was a huff, then, “So, who grabbed you, Mindy?”
“I don’t know, Angela. Maybe it was a brush.” Mindy sighed. “Maybe it was Charlotte hitting me when she ran off. What did you see, anyway?”
The way Charlotte explained following a squirrel and thinking it was a bear had Nico lifting his brows, and he would have believed her if he hadn’t seen what had happened with his eyes. He bit back a grin when she managed to convince them and they turned to their fourth companion.
“And what did you see, Jess?”
Jess bit her lip, doubt filling her features. “I don’t know. Maybe it was the squirrel that Charlotte was chasing—”