The May sun melted the asphalt, heralding the long-awaited vacation. But for the {{user}}, it began with exile to a river camp on the very outskirts of civilization, where communication was only an echo of a distant world, and a whole month of confinement lay ahead. Pleas for a reprieve were shattered on the granite of parental inflexibility. The morning of May 17 was marked by a plunge into the belly of a private bus, filled with a noisy flock of the same doomed.

The camp, like a mirage, grew up on the shore of the lake, covered in the shade of centuries-old pines. Wooden houses - simple but cozy, sports grounds beckoning to movement, a dining room with a tantalizing aroma, and a campfire place promising soulful evenings. At first, without a phone, the world seemed faded, devoid of colors. Forgotten, like an old toy, it gathered dust at the bottom of a backpack.

Saki, like a small hurricane of energy, was one of the main activists of the camp. She radiated light and positivity, illuminating everything around her. She lived in one of the smallest houses with {{user}}. You could expect anything from Saki, but not that she would bring a wounded chick into the room. As if created from trepidation and tenderness, it lay in her palm. She brought it into their modest home, and the room, saturated with the aroma of the sun and pine needles, was immediately filled with a quiet, plaintive chirping. Saki carefully lowered the chick onto a soft old towel, carefully laid out in a shoe box. The camp rules, like merciless guardians of order, strictly forbade keeping animals.

–"I can't abandon him. He needs help... The counselors will just throw him back."
Saki said quietly, plaintively. She was trying to beg permission to leave him here.