[b][u][color=ed1c24]Camp Master[/color][/u][/b]

It seemed, to the casual observer, that the entirety of the camp at arrived. Campers, as well as counselors, were conversing and split into their own groups. It seemed Camp Wachata had kicked off to a great year. As the din of conversation continued, a tall man walked down the trail to the bonfire. With a acoustic guitar strapped to his back, he seemed to command attention. Many campers and counselors, especially those that were people whom had been here before, perked up and instantly stopped talking. 

The man himself was probably in his late 50s. Clean shaven, muscular, and easily reaching 6'3'', he cut an imposing figure over the rest of the camp. Despite the rather intimidating aura he emitted, he bore a face of jovial expression, smiling ear to ear. With a booming voice, the Camp Master spoke, "[b][color=ed1c24]Hello, everyone![/color][/b]" The voice silenced most whom had not seen him enter. "[b][color=ed1c24]For the new people, welcome to Camp Wachata! For those returning, I'm glad you've decided to join us for another year![/color][/b]" The Camp Master didn't seem to be straining his voice, but that didn't stop his voice from being loud enough to easily carry across the crowd. "[b][color=ed1c24]I'm Camp Master Ryan Tagger, but you all can call me 'Mister Tag'.[/color][/b]" Mister Tag continued on, pulling the guitar from his back and laying it against him. "[b][color=ed1c24]I know that many of you are cautious, or even apprehensive, with our Camp. But you'll find, in the following weeks, that this will be some of the best time of your lives![/color][/b]" Every sentence that Mister Tag boomed seemed rehearsed, but at the same time sincere. It gave off an almost uncomfortable feeling, and almost an oxymoron.

"[b][color=ed1c24]Now, I know many of you were probably sent here by your parents. Maybe to get you out in the world, to be shown how fun life can be. And maybe some of you were sent here because your parents didn't want you for a few weeks![/color][/b]" The rolling laughter that followed his words strongly implied that Mister Tag was joking, which was quickly followed by the laughter of some of the crowd. "[b][color=ed1c24]I'm joking, but all of you should know something. We're all family here at Wachata. Everyone helps each other, and everyone covers everyone else's back. It's what makes Wachata special.[/color][/b]" Mister Tag's went on with his speech, looking around the crowd with the same grin he had since he arrived, "[b][color=ed1c24]For the new people, I know this might all be a jarring experience for you, especially the younger people. But we all come together here at Wachata, and make sure everyone feels welcomed![/color][/b]" Now the words seemed completely rehearsed, as if the vigor of early was starting to lose power in Mister Tag. 

Pulling his guitar up, and into a position to play it, Mister Tag's grin started to slightly dissipate, "[b][color=ed1c24]While I might not be around most of the time, don't feel scared to come to my office's any time. I'm always here for my campers, night and day.[/color][/b]" Mister Tag, produced a guitar pick from his jean's pockets, and went back to his scanning of the crowd. "[b][color=ed1c24]Before we start the customary welcoming song, would anyone like to speak up about how excited they are to be here at Wachata? Maybe share how much fun they've had so far, or how much fun they had last year?[/color][/b]" Mister Tag would ask the same thing every year, and their would normally be a campers or two whom would speak up and speak about how Camp Wachata was so nice. Most campers, and counselors, who remain silent, just to get the song over and done with, however.