Bonfires always scared Frank; the idea of them hit too close to home.
Being near fire, intentionally? No thanks! There were too many possible opportunities for things to go wrong, and with his life on the line, the chance of being near a huge, blazing fire for a long period of time was not a risk he was willing to take.
"You comin', Frank?" an older centurion asked as she walked past him at his post.
"No, thanks, I'm good," he responded automatically, not even pausing long enough to really think about it. He'd been asked on other bonfire nights, and each time, his answer was the same.
"You sure? I hear it's supposed to be extra lit tonight!"
Frank subconsciously felt his fingers locate and tighten around the small hunk of wood that he always kept in his pocket. It made him feel safer knowing he had it, where he could keep an eye on it at all times.
He smiled, though it was clenched and forced.
"Yeah, I'm sure. After all," he said, straightening up rigidly and giving a goofy salute, "someone has to guard the camp against the rest of the world!"
