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Debra couldn't help but grin as she noted everyone as present, even the latecomers. Then again, she couldn't be judgemental over that when she herself was delayed. There was no such thing as fashionably late, and she could only apologise for it and move on swiftly.

[color=52a8f6][b]"Ugh, you're the [i]best[/i], Val."[/b][/color] Debra took a brownie, asking the same thing her uncle did whenever grandma made them in the same wicked tone of voice, with the same sly raise of an eyebrow. [color=52a8f6][b]"There's nothing [i]extra[/i] added to these, right?"[/b][/color] Unsurprisingly, she moved swiftly on before someone with a little more knowledge and know-how (Cecil or Emily, maybe; anyone with older siblings) called her out on it.

But with that, she scanned over the group, counting twice. She wasn't the latest, thankfully, but with Val here now that meant everyone who promised to show up had done so. Most seemed prepared. Debra felt as though she needed a helmet like Eliza's right now, and she gave her one stoic, appreciative nod, one soldier to another.

[i]We're going to get so much shit for this from our parents. It's gonna be like 'Nam.[/i]

Lying for purposes such of this would be okay, Debra reasoned earlier, so long as it was just the once––and as long as it didn't hurt anybody but themselves. No second thoughts. She was blessed in that she wouldn't even be questioned as to where she was going, but she could only assume that Val would have had more of an issue gallivanting off into the woods without parental permission than herself or Phoebe would have.

[color=52a8f6][b]"Alright, ladies, gentlemen! We leave no man behind, but we're gonna try and get there before sundown. Let me know if you need to stop or––"[/b][/color] she interrupted herself briefly to flex, though nothing as impressive as The Nut could surely manage, [color=52a8f6][b]"––or if you want me to carry your bags, of course. Emzo's not the only one who's willing to do that. But if there's no questions or complaints, let's get to it. Onwards!"[/b][/color]

Cecile, The Nut, Val, Feebs, Xander, Felix, Eliza, Noah, Daniel.

Herself.

And soon, Madcat.

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Champlain Forest was tall. The boundary between it and St. Stephens was lined by skeletal trees, the type that had lost their leaves to some freak accident or greenery-eating disease but were left standing like tombstones. Four minutes into the hiking path, they thickened out, and six minutes after that, when the route took a slight incline [i]down[/i]hill, the town they had left behind disappeared behind foliage. This was the edge: teenagers came out here often to carve their names and true loves into trees and start bonfires in clearings where the grass wouldn't burn properly, it had been scorched so many times. 

Those were the unofficial markers of the trail itself, and occasionally their guide at the head of the group would run her fingers along one. At the very least, it gave her a splinter to pick out of her thumb on the easier––boring––stretches.

The morning dew on the grass evaporated quickly as the temperatures rose. The skies above were an almost cloudless blue, and even through the thick canopy of the forest's towering trees, the sun was hot; the type to need sunscreen and water to prevent heat stroke. It wasn't a dry heat. Humidity nipped, growing stronger as the morning progressed into afternoon. 

Lunch break would follow shortly, Debra decided, but not until they had cleared the creek that bisected the designated path in two: the easy part, and the Hard Bit.

But first, to cross the 'river'. To say that the path they were walking along disappeared suddenly was an understatement. A small picnic area with a large rock used as a bench for no doubt hundreds of historical asses stood at the end of it, and that's where the land started to dip into a sharp overhang of precarious ground.

Water, fast enough to be pulled under, deep enough to drown in. Deeper than it should have been for the time of year.

[color=52a8f6][b]"Right! Now I know we're going the right way,"[/b][/color] said Debra, with a tone of voice and a smile on her face that were both [i]completely[/i] reassuring. She probably shouldn't have joked about that, in hindsight, but she'd walked all the way up to Kalispel Hill with her uncle what seemed like hundreds of times (but was probably closer to fifteen). Debra knew it well enough to serve as a guide.

She hoped so, at least.

The creek was too far into the forest to have a proper bridge built on it. The logistics of that sounded like a nightmare even to a thirteen year old. As a result, the only way to cross the bridge––outside of a slightly more dangerous option with a much higher risk of death––was a makeshift log embedded in the soil at both sides as it had been for what must have been [i]decades[/i]. Better than the rope-swing just a minute's walk downstream.

The tree it was made from had a thick trunk, the same width of the largest in the forest if not even more so. There was plenty of room for one and [i]almost[/i] enough for two, though the log certainly at first glance seemed sturdy enough to support both. [color=52a8f6][b]"It's completely safe, guys. Scout's honor."[/b][/color] Debra took off her cap as if to swear an oath but ended up swatting away a bug with it instead. Even if she couldn't convince her friends to cross, the sign of numerous, reasonably fresh boot prints on the wood was surely a comforting sign.

She was sure she saw one of her friends gulp. The danger of slipping off the uneven, rounded edges of the log to Certain Doom was daunting enough to counter all of her enthusiasm.