Another night spent fighting bugs and sleeping on barely padded hard ground. Peter grumbled as he tried to find a comfortable position in his sleeping bag. The little kids got to have real beds inside the bunkhouses, and while they didn't have air conditioning, you didn't have to suffer mosquitoes all the time. Not that Peter hated camping, but this weekend just was timed badly. If he'd been home he would have been celebrating his 16th birthday by getting his driver's license and having some real adult freedom. But it was his 'responsibility' as a Squad Leader to be here for the big camporee. Cubs and Webelos and Boy Scouts got together once a year, so he had to be here.
Peter continued to grouse about the 'soft' lives of the Cub Scouts, wishing he was able to sleep in a comfy bunk, and even more annoyed that his long-awaited driver's test would have to wait until next week. He didn't see the oddly glowing bug hovering in the corner of his tent. One of the local fae had been listening, and grinned - the boy would end up having even more time before he got his precious license.