Woodland Tranquillity

“What do you want on your noodles?” Nick asked, clattering around with the stove to no real effect.

Sky Alton
Writer, Gryffindor

I finished hammering in the final peg and let the mallet fall. The tent looked better than it had last night. Whether that meant it wouldn’t collapse on us at 3 in the morning, only time would tell. I stood up and tried to work the kinks out of my back. The light was already fading fast from the patch of sky above and it was nearly dark under the trees.
“What do you want on your noodles?” Nick asked, clattering around with the stove to no real effect.
“What have we got?” Lee sighed.
“Looks like hoisin …or hoisin,” Nick said, sorting through the flavour sashays, “Although there might be some hoisin.” He rocked back on his heels, “Told you we should have brought more Teriyaki ones.”
“What does it matter?” Lee asked, scuffing the heel of his hiking boot through the dry leaves, “They all taste like mud.”
“You would know…”
“Rich from the guy who texted from 2 continents away begging we send Amnesty International with a Dominos order.”
“I wasn’t kidding, I could have re-wallpapered the room with my aunt’s pudding.”
“Just cook the darn noodles.”
“What did your last slave die of?”

I turned to Mark who was sitting on a log a little way off, his head tilted back.
“Are we going to have to listen to this all night?”
“Hmmm?” He slowly took his eyes off the middle distance and refocused on me, “Oh, sorry, what?”
“That,” I gestured to where the other two were now glowering each other over a burner that refused to light.
“Oh, I just try and keep out of it.”

I nodded, watching his face intently for the moment when he zoned out again. He caught my eye and grinned.
“Oi,” Nick clicked his fingers to get our attention, “The one of us with culinary experience could actually be helping, you know.”
“I was a barista, not a chef,” Mark told him, ambling over, “That’s like asking a cardiologist to examine your toe.”
“Least a cardiologist would have some vague idea of what they were doing,” Lee mumbled and Nick gave him the evil eye. Mark Just squatted down and calmly began to make dinner. After a moment, he glanced back
at me and winked. It was always best to keep well out.