Chapter 12

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Arron had a mental list of top embarrassing moments of his life. Up until now the prize winner was an incident with the castle's maid bathroom. Until today, that was.

Arron looked back at the field to see if he was far enough. Dim yellow light from the campfire washed his face. The mild chatter of the camp hummed in the air.

Nope, not far enough.

Arron moved another forty feet or so. Now the camp was about a hundred feet away. Little noise reached and the light was as good as darkness.

As self conscious he still felt about doing his business, if this doesn't cut it, nothing will. But still, for good measures, he walked over and hid behind a tree, tripping on a root for the sixth time on the way. His bladder felt like bursting.

He stood in the cool dampness of the large, nameless, living spire of wood, blindly trying to undo the buttons on his pants. That's when it happened.

He had only found a tight grip on the button when his surrounding began to light up in a cold green light. The cool damp smell was replaced by an even colder fishy smell.

Arron looked up, suspecting someone had come by. Because that'd make stuff beyond hard to explain. He probably shouldn't have.

It looked like a half-bred between a horse and a chicken. It's body looked dark blue in the nowhere light. The front legs were much thicker and longer than the back ones, leaving the head raised high, a head which would've been a horse's, if not for the tentacles coming out of the sides of its face. A thick, reptilian tail came out of its back. Luminous lines of green ran along it's body like embroidery.

This was a creature from the Outer Wilds.

Oh, God. They were in the Outer Wilds.

In the back of his mind, Arron probably felt the hot wet feeling traveling down his hips, but he was too scared to care.

The creature took a step towards him. It lowered it's head, it's green eyes scanning Arron top to bottom. It's tentacles rose, glowing their own green incandescence. A burbling groan came out of its mouth.

Arron had to give conscious effort not to make a further mess in his pant.

Then it turned back, leaped into

A thousand questions veered into Arron's mind, but there was nobody to ask. But first...

After Arron had taken care of the mess he had narrowly avoided, he headed back towards the camp. But he stopped a few yards from the edge of the forest. There is no way he will march into the crowded camp smelling like pee.

He sat down on a root, his legs crossed. His pants just felt cold and wet now. The cold of the night begun to settle onto him through his cold. Even though the light of the campsite repelled darkness, it did not offer any warmth. But hopefully the light and sound from the camp drove away wild creatures and possibly large glowing horse creatures. that have a habit of sneaking on people when they're peeing.

Time passed. Could be minutes, could be hours. Cold settled under Arron's skin, shaking him to the bones. Wet clothes stuck to his skin, sending shivers to all his organs. He felt fairly sure that of he were to spend the night like this he would never see the morning.

Honor before life his father always said. He could bet his sword that his father has never been in this situation.

Arron stood up, getting ready to go back into the camp. Then, like a gracious ray of sunshine from a cloudy sky, like the first drop of water after days of thirst, like the first little plant from a barren land, Russell was there.

Arron jumped in his position. He almost ran back to the camp to give him a hug.

Russell was looking around, as if looking for someone specific. He had a nervous grin on his face. His backpack was slung over his shoulder. Arron prayed with all his heart that he had a spare pant in there.

"Russell!!" He whispered loudly.

Apparently Russell had really good hearing. He immediately turned his head towards the forest and squinted. Arron raised his hand and waved.

Thankfully, Russell looked straight at him and walked towards the forest. It was surely a behavior of questionable safety, but Arron wasn't dumb enough to argue with good luck.

"What are you..." Russell was beginning to say.

"Do you have any spare pants?!" Arron said with urgency.

"Yes, I do. But, why are you outside? And what do you want with a pant?"

"Just give it to me!!" Arron extended his hand.

Russell eyed him suspiciously. Then pulled a pant out of his backpack and threw it to Arron. Arron snatched it out of the air. He went behind a nearby tree.

After he changed his pants and the previous one was properly disposed of, Arron came back into the camp. The blanket of warmth enveloped him almost as soon as he left the trees. Since he had gotten over the greater predicament, hunger decided to make it's strike. Nausea rolled over him as his stomach reminded him that it hadn't received anything since morning.

"What were you doing? And why did you need to change pants." Russell inquired.

Arron considered telling him. If he told him, shame. But he was wearing the guy's pants. He deserves to know. So if he didn't tell him, also shame.

Arron decided to tell him.

Russell's eyes widened as Arron told his tale, keeping out a few extremely embarrassing parts. When Arron finally stopped talking Russell looked at him with awe. Then he said, "You can keep the pants."

He didn't even ask what he did with the last one.

"What were you doing? Arron decided to let Russell do some talking.

"Oh, looking for you."

Arron could marry this guy.

"Follow me. Orpheus is telling us to gather." Russell said as he walked towards the luggage part.

Arron shrugged and followed.

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