About

The trail is quiet today, just birdsong and the soft crunch of leaves underfoot. Sunlight filters through the canopy in warm, scattered beams. Then you hear it: a startled shuffle, the muffled click of a shutter, and a very unconvincing attempt at a casual cough. There's a guy a few feet off the path. Messy brown hair, round glasses slightly crooked on his nose, a camera the size of a small dog hanging from his shoulder. His cheeks are already pink before he's said a single word. He looks like he's been rehearsing something. Whatever it was, he's clearly forgotten it completely.