The Lake

Jolting awake with a start, Ollie sat up, nearly knocking her book into the lake. Her face itched and tickled, as if bugs were crawling all over it. Wiping a face across her cheek, she was surprised (and disgusted) to see it coated heavily in ants, squirming in a horrid attempt to free themselves from her grasp. They were everywhere: on her backpack, her face, her hair; it occurred to Ollie that she'd fallen asleep with her sandwich on her face and her lunch wide open, obviously attracting the miniature demons to her blanket. It also occurred to Ollie that they were still everywhere.

With a squeal, she took off her sweatshirt to reveal a navy and white stripped bathing suit as she began an arial attack on the bugs with the shirt. Hopping from foot to foot around the blanket and proving to herself that no matter what she might think, she was absolutely terrified of bugs.

"Why did I even choose to come to the stupid lake after that stupid trip here?" She hissed, now dumping all of her stuff out of the pack.

When the ants proved to be too much of a problem, she, after smothering another squeal with her free hand, picked up the half eaten food and tossed it several feet away from her belongings, slipping out of her shorts and boots, and diving into the cold lake.

"I guess I'm awake now." She grumbled, securing a float on her back.

L E O P O L D • P R A T T

“You look like you’ve had a rough day.”

Leopold looked up with an expression equivalent to that of a drowning man who had just been told he’s slightly damp and gave the newcomer a onceover. “Yeah, well you’re not so hot yourself, honey.” He scoffed and returned to glowering at his hooves. Leo’s ears swiveled towards the sound of a body dropping beside him and arched a thick, inquiring brow. When the girl made no move to leave, Leopold sighed and let his prickly aura deflate, “He just doesn’t understand how mad he makes me. Or maybe he does and gets a kick out of seeing me all riled up. The sick bastard.” He fumed, ears twitching irritably, “That douche-canoe had the fucking gall to flick dirt on my face! Right below my eye!” He jabbed a painted nail at the spot for emphasis and let out a frustrated snarl. “Sometimes I just want to pound his smug little face into the mud, he just makes me so mad, ya know?” He sighed heavily, body sagging, “Gods, I hope his karma is a bitch.”

Inhaling deeply he let out a sharp breath and a considering hum, “Ya know, that actually felt way better than blogging.” He flicked his gaze over the young woman again. The small smile of appreciation vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a frown and a sigh. "Honestly, sweetie," Leopold lifted a limp strand of hair from her face, "Ever heard of conditioner?"