Hey! I'm back, so the plan didn't really come off but here we are again. So this chapter takes place yesterday, basically.

But thank you to Steampunk Wilson, MelodySouth65 + KaliAnn for reviewing the last chapter, now let's crack on.

26/10/2019

Well, I got up to hear Donald and Feathry outside my tent making a LOT of noise.

So I got out the tent and said. "Are you two imbeciles TRYING to wake the entire campsite!?"

The pair of them froze – Feathry holding lots of wood in his hand and Donald doing his best to fry eggs - and looked at me like they'd forgotten I existed. Which to be fair they probably had. It must be taking them time to get used to the fact I'm back here permanently. To be perfectly honest it's taking ME a lot of time to get used to the fact I'm back again. I had a dream last night I was back on the spaceship talking to Penumbra, then I blinked and she'd disappeared. So I ran all over the spaceship trying to find her but I couldn't and I was panicking QUITE badly and I could hear voices in the distance and THEN-

I woke up to hear Donald and Feathry talking outside my tent.

So I established that they were trying [and struggling] to cook eggs. Well, it wasn't so much the cooking of the actual eggs, but getting the fire 'up and running' so to speak, and the wind was blowing a bit so it was trying to go out.

"Can't you just get Gladstone to stand next to it or something?" I said, tummy rumbling.

The boys looked at each other. "He's asleep." Donald said, gruffly.

There was a beat. Then I said. "Well, I gathered he wasn't up frolicking through fields. Do you want me to wake him u-"

"No!" Donald and Feathry said together.

I gave them a look and Donald said. "He…didn't go to sleep till late."

I don't like it when people beat about the bush. So I gave him a look and said. "Are you trying to tell me he had a nightmare, Don?"

"…Yes." Don admitted. "When he finally got to sleep that is. He was up for ages TALKING. About EVERYTHING. Some of it was quite nice. Some of it was just plain rubbish. About midnight I threatened him with death if he didn't go to sleep and that got the message through." He took a deep breath, then carried on with: "THEN about…I dunno, two? Three hours later? He had a nightmare. Quite bad. Hitting out and everything. So I woke him up and asked him what was wrong. He tried to brush me off, I pressed him for details…but-" Another breath. "I could see…he wasn't in the right frame of mind to answer them. So I just got him back to sleep – don't ask how – and yeah. He's still asleep now, so I think we should just leave him because from what Feathery says he's not been getting much sleep lately so…yeah."

So we left him. We didn't really do much in the morning, mainly because we didn't want Gladstone to worry if he woke up and we weren't there. Feathry suggested he could stay behind if me and Don wanted to go fishing, but STRAGELY ENOUGH myself and Don weren't really enamoured with that idea. Visions of the campsite going up in flames and all that. So we hung round the campsite and amused ourselves by recounting stories of our childhood and discussing various members of our extended family.

About 1 o clock [bearing in mind I dragged myself up at 10] Gladstone emerged from his tent, yawning and rubbing his eyes. "Morning." He said.

"Afternoon." Donald said pointedly.

Gladstone blinked. "Is it afternoon?"

"It is. Do you want some eggs?"

"Sure, that'd be nice."

Donald smirked. "Fire's there." He said, indicating the charred remains. "Eggs in that bag." He pointed. "Knock yourself out."

Gladstone frowned but dutifully went ferreting for the eggs.

I said to Donald. "That was a bit mean."

Donald brushed me off. "He's 35, Dells. I think he can manage-"

"-YOU struggled with the fire-"

Donald opened his mouth but then there was crackle of flames and we turned round to see Gladstone standing next to the suddenly-alight fire, holding some eggs under his arm, looking surprised.

Feathry was there, eyes wide, smile spreading wide across his face. "That. Was. Awsome!"

"What happened!?" Me and Donald squawked, together.

"He just stood next to it, though a couple of sticks on it and the ENTIRE thing leapt into flames!" Feathry said, excitedly. "It was awesome, it was like 'woosh!'" He said, shooting his arms in the air, dramatically. "And just LEAPT into flames, oh, it was so cool – oh, I wish I could do that Gladdy!"

Gladstone stood there, looking at the fire in bemusement. Then he shook his head and the cocky look came back into his eye. "Well. It takes practice, but yeah. What can I say? I'm awesome."

Donald sat down on a log and muttered uncomplimentary things about our cousin in green that Gladstone must have been able to hear, but ignored.

About half an hour after that Donald, having heard enough of both Gladstone and Feathry talking 19 to the dozen, picked up his fishing rod and said, as if it wasn't obvious enough. "I'm going fishing."

"Great!" Feathry said, brightly. "We'll come with you!"

Donald paused and spluttered a bit, but didn't want to say flat out 'I don't want you with me' so reluctantly said we can come.

When we got to the river that runs through a forest that's about five minutes walk from the campsite Donald put his rod and bait down and said, to Gladstone and Feathry. "You two go up there-" He waved his hand a bit. "Me and Dells will stay down here."

Feathry looked confused and Gladstone folded his arms. "And why can't we all fish together?" He asked.

Donald squawked a bit and spluyttered. "Cos, cos, cos – we can't all fish in the same place! The fish'll get wise to it!"

Feathry looked confused. "I don't think fish are that smart Don." He said. "Dolphins maybe…"

"Feathers." Gladstone cut in. "Let's just go. I can tell when we're not WANTED."

"I – But you – you – agh! Just go!"

"We're going." Gladstone shot back. "C'mon, Feathers." And he dragged Feathry off, beak in the air. Feathry looked back at us, looking hurt and confused.

I waited till they'd gone a little further then smacked my twin on the shoulder. "What's wrong with you!?"

"I need a break!" He snapped at me. "I've been up with Gladstone ALL NIGHT! Cut me some slack!"

I stomped my foot. "Fine! I will." And picked up my rod and followed my cousins.

The pair of them had moved about five minutes walk away and were in the process of attaching bait to the rods. "Look who it is!" Gladstone said seeing me. "You joining us as well, Dells-Bells?"

"Uh-huh." I said, sitting next to them. "Don wants peace and quiet, he's gonna GET peace and quiet."

"I don't want peace and quiet." Don said, from behind me. We all turned and he rubbed the back of his neck. "Can I join you?" He asked. "It's to quiet down there."

"Sure!" Feathry said, cheerfully, moving up. "You can sit next to me!"

Donald hesitated and looked at me. I sighed. "Sit down lame-oh, before the fish cotton on."

He cracked a smile and sat down in between Feathry and Gladstone. They didn't say anything to each other, but kind of nodded at each other.

So we fished. We did quite well. Gladstone did better than us, of course, and quickly ended up with a nice little pile of fish behind him. "Well." He laughed. "I think we've got dinner, breakfast and lunch sorted!"

Donald, who was having considerably less luck, muttered under his breath. "Show off…"

Feathry was being a much better sport about not catching anything, content to just enjoy our company. He spent the whole time walking about various different types of fish.

I must admit I was sharing Donald's annoyance. I mean, there's clearly fish IN the river, they just don't want to be anywhere near US.

I squawked in annoyance and stood up in order to pear into the river.

"What are you doing Dells?" Feathry asked, curiously.

"I want to see." I said. "If there ARE actually any fish in this river or if Gladstone's just attaching them surreptitiously to his hook!"

Gladstone gave a cheerful laugh that rubbed me up the wrong way and said. "Just lucky, Dells-Bells!"

"Don't call me that." I said, but quietly enough so no one else could hear me. I meant to yell it at him, but the words died in my throat. He can't help it. Anymore than myself and Don can help being UN-lucky. And you know, it's swings and roundabouts. At least our parents didn't die when we were 7. At least we were taken in by a family member IN America and not shipped of to Scotland to live with an Uncle and Aunt we didn't really know who had three children all significantly older than we were.

At least we didn't have that. So I gritted my teeth and just focused on trying to CATCH SOMETHING!

So half an hour later we're walking back to the campsite with twenty fish, all of which Gladstone had caught, with him still talking. "Wow! That was some luck, huh guys?"

"Yeah!" Feathry said, as Donald and myself grunted. "AND they're decent sizes! Let's have those two for tea tonight!" He said, nodding his heads towards the two big fish Don was carrying in his right wing.

"Sure thing, whattya think Don?"

"Whatever." Don spat and I saw Gladstone wrinkle his beak a little bit.

Determined to avoid an argument I asked Feathry if he could remember a little about how to cook fish on a open fire from his J.W.G days. Turns out he could remember a lot and he gave us a in-depth explanation that lasted 45 minutes.

45 minutes!

So, long story short we cooked the fish, eat the fish and sang songs round the campfire at Feathry's urging. There was still some tension so Feathry, optimistic as always, suggested Gladstone sing us a song.

I brightened up at that. I like Gladstone's voice. He's got a good voice. He looked slightly surprised and muttered something about how he hasn't sang for YEARS and he doesn't even know any campfire songs, so that wasn't going to work.

To which Feathry said he didn't HAVE to sing a campfire song, he could sing any song, the fact he would be singing it round a campfire therefore MADE it a campfire song. So Gladstone cleared his throat and said – surprisingly shyly – that, if it was alright with us – he'd sing the song 'You are my sunshine' by Willie Nelson.

I think Don was GOING to scoff, till Gladstone mentioned that Ludwig used to sing it a lot. Instantly he shut up and just nodded. So Gladstone sang, and we listened, and me and Feathry ended up crying. An although Don didn't actually CRY – he's far to 'tough' for that – I saw him wiping tears from his eyes when he thought no one was looking.

So yeah, not a bad day. NOT a bad day.