He didn’t know exactly why his parents had chosen Blue Lake…something about how deeply blue it was. Details beyond that weren’t particularly interesting to an adolescent mind; the sound of scenery had its way of going unnoticed, especially when drowned out by the melody of laughter emanating from the forest—one which he proceeded to follow as his family set up camp.
The setting sun cut the forest at a slant; a mist crept past the treetops. The feint laughter glided in and out of range; behind branches shined her eyes. She ran in spurts, occasionally slowing to see if he’d kept up. The chase was steady—an eternity, he thought.
At a clearing she stopped. Tall blades of grass met each of their shoulders, which had now finally aligned. And before them an oddly matted patch waited on the ground. Without words the two laid flat, their breath seeping into the stars above which had begun to dot the sky. She reached up and traced the hunter and his bow, then gestured the effect of an arrow’s pierce. The horizon followed the motion of her hand as if by command, widening until Blue Lake had become fully wrapped in black. And from its gash poured out an impossibly neon aurora.