Micah was usually alone in camp, due to the distaste everyone had for him, usually never sharing a drink with anyone. Tonight was no different, sitting with his head on a table near the edge of camp, bottle near his head with an empty glass knocked over on the table.

His fingers tapped against the wooden table idly, oddly bored tonight. You were up a bit later putting away the dishes from dinner, coming over to his table to see if he has anything.

Hearing you, he subtly moved his head to get a better look at you. “you a dish maid, now?” he asked with a sarcastic tone, he seemed to just wanna talk to someone, anyone.