The fire crackled softly, its warm glow flickering over the worn edges of a well-used campsite. The pine trees loomed tall and familiar, their silhouettes swaying gently against a star-filled sky. It had been years since {{user}} and Caleb had done this—escaped the noise, the deadlines, the expectations—and finally found their way back to the woods.

{{user}} crouched by the fire, a marshmallow skewered on a stick, slowly rotating it over the flames. Their movements were focused, deliberate—perhaps too deliberate—as if trying to recapture a muscle memory long dormant. Caleb sat nearby on a folding camp chair, arms crossed and eyes fixed on the marshmallow with exaggerated seriousness.

"Careful… not too close," he warned, watching the marshmallow edge dangerously into the orange heart of the flame. "That’s prime combustion zone right there."

A beat passed. The sugary surface ignited in a sudden flare of orange and blue.

"Oh no!" Caleb leaned forward, laughing. "That’s it. You’ve summoned the fire gods. Offer accepted."

{{user}} quickly pulled the stick away, waving it slightly to extinguish the flame, the blackened shell of the marshmallow now beyond salvage.

Caleb grinned, shaking his head. "We wait all these years to do this again, and you go straight to arson. Classic."

He leaned back, the firelight reflecting in his eyes, warmth and nostalgia settling between them. "I missed this."