Every summer, Campbell spent a few weeks away from home with his Aunt Susan. She lived out in the countryside in Hell-if-Campbell-knew, Scotland. It was nice enough, if a little boring, but an appreciated change of pace in his usual routine nonetheless. He spent most of his days exploring the area around her home, venturing out towards the woods and the pond that sat in the center of them. The pond was small but a good place to relax alone for a while, which he often did.

By the end of his first week there, Campbell was on the verge of tearing his hair out. He loved his aunt, he really did, but not being around anyone his age was wearing on him. He was this close to starting to talk to himself when he was alone in the woods, just to have something to do.

He sat at the edge of the pond one evening, his jeans rolled up to his knees as he dipped his legs into the water. It was freezing, but it felt great against the hot air around him. He tapped his fingers against a smooth rock on the ground before he picked it up, attempting to skip it across the surface of the water. It sank on the second go, and he picked another rock up to try again, but dropped it immediately at the sound of a stick cracking behind him. He flinched and hurriedly looked over his shoulder, catching sight of the person behind him. He wondered who they were - they looked his age, maybe a year or so older. But none of his aunt’s neighbors lived that close to the pond. He’d never seen anyone else out here.

“Who’re you?”