“Hey, it can’t always be doom and gloom here. Gotta make the best of a shit situation. So, yeah…I guess I am happy–as happy as I can be given our situation.” The freckled athlete replied swiftly, laughter erupting from her chest. From where they sat on the log, Meg easily knocked her knee into Quentin’s thigh. It was a playful jab, one intending to keep the atmosphere light and friendly. Tucking a stray copper strand behind her ear, Meg perked up at the beanie-wearing boy with a smirk. “I like to stay positive even when circumstances are at their worst. Besides, we haven’t been called into a trial for a while, which is nice. Small victories deserved to be celebrated. We should take the opportunity to try and relax. We’ll have plenty of time to curse and scream later. For now, let’s just…pretend like a trial isn’t even in our minds.” After a pause, Meg rocketed off the log and was bouncing on her heels like an energetic toddler.“Oh, I know! I bet sprucing the place up would keep things lively in camp. Wanna wander into the forest with me and gather some amaranth? It’ll keep the place smelling fresh and we can use it in future trials, too. C’mon, it’s better than just sitting around and waiting for the next trial. Let’s go!” Not even waiting for Quentin to respond, Meg was already stepping into his space and reaching down for his hands, attempting to yank him off the log by her sheer strength alone. Which, for the record, Meg was athletic, but she wasn’t buff. Though she hoped Quentin would read the act as endearing and not invasive.
