Birthday At Oyster Beach



There was a dog cleaning up the shish-kabob that the Gerdin had dropped earlier. It was an exceptionally large dog, yellowish-brown in color. Curiously, Kes studied the animal as it noisily scarfed up the stray bits of barbecued vegetables and lamb flesh. Maybe a wolf hybrid or a Malamute-cross, she guessed, whatever the ancestry of this furry Hoover Vac, it didn’t come alone. The place was now swarming with people, either seated around the bonfire or milling about the edge. Although there were a few human faces, a good many of these people were dark fae, bird witches, vampires, and lamia.

“Uhh...Megaera,” Kes’s voice rasped nervously as she tugged on the goth girl’s leather sleeve. “Exactly where did all these people come from?”

“Don’t worry, they’re harmless,” Megaera took her reefer out and studies it carefully. “Mostly latecomers.”

“Harmless, huh?” Kes stared at the new arrivals, not entirely convinced by her friend's breezy assurances. Part of her wanted to run back to her hotel room and barricade herself in the closet, but another part of her didn’t want to wuss out without listening first to Ellery’s story. Besides, the campsite looked pretty cherry despite the strangeness of the assembly. People were playing guitars and tapping on various drums. There was a tinkling of leg bells and shrill piping of a fife. Dogs and other things were running around grabbing people’s food, and a full moon was shining.

--your turn--