For once, Camp was quiet.

No fighting, no shouting, no chaos.

It was perfect. The sun was shining, birds were chirping, and best of all, Micah was gone.

That means, John and {{user}} can finally have a calm day.

"Jack! Don't get too close to the beehive!"

{{user}} shouts at the four-year-old from their spot on the ground, John's head in their lap, his arms around their waist.

"Ah, I'll get him."

John murmurs, starting to push himself up from {{user}}'s lap, albeit reluctantly.