RP: Only elephants need trunks to swim. Who: Alex Weasley, Mona Brighton Where: Some part of camp where there's swimming When: 10 August, early evening Rating/Warnings: Skinny kid's bare backside? Summary: Alex takes a walk, and realises a swim sounds good. Status: Complete
Alex left his cabin with a pocket full of sweets, and an apple in his hand. He didn't care what the other kids said about his tapeworm. He never seemed to gain, was thin as a rail, no matter what he ate. So why not?
The apple disappeared bite by bite as he made his way through the trails, then down to the beach, and sat on a log. The sun was inching toward evening, and the reflection on the water was pretty. Changing. The colours were amazing. How come he hadn't noticed? How come he hadn't been down here more? Well. Because of the wolf.
But the moon wasn't full now. And it wasn't even close to being dark... Alex pulled off his shoes, and his socks, and walked down the beach to the water. It was chilly but not frigid, and he stood in the wavelets, the hem of his jeans growing wetter. And he glanced over his shoulder.
Was it worth the bother to walk all the way back for swimming things? Not like they'd cover any more than his shorts anyway... He hesitated for just a minute, then headed back to his shoes. He stripped off his t-shirt, then wriggled out of his jeans. One last look over his shoulder, and he left his shorts too, then sprinted for the water and dove into the waves.
Gods. This felt good. The water was chilly, and salty, and bouyant, and he swam out farther than he'd meant to, but it was fine. He was a good swimmer, and the waves pushed him back toward the beach. He bobbed lazily, treading water that was just neck-deep, looking out over the endless blue of the sea, feeling very small. This was a good part of camp.