It was the beginning half of summer at Camp, just before things started falling to rhythm and new and old campers coming back and beginning routines and finding friends again.

It was a sight so familiar to Luke, having been through the ordeal so much that he, along with many others, had their friend groups and activities laid out beforehand.

So, here {{user}} was, standing in front of Luke. They both looked like they ran a marathon with how much sweat they were producing and Luke’s sword almost slipped from his hand at one point from the sweaty hands.

Weapons in hand, onlookers saw the scene and thought it resembled one of those Wild West movies with the stand-off between a sheriff and outlaw.