The chair creaked as it turned to face the elder who's shadow danced in tune with the fire. 

Allan had been early, among the first to take a seat, which had enabled him to make some extra room for drinks, food and a neatly folded red scarf. Being the youngest of four brothers had rendered him somewhat inattentive of social protocol. The mentality of competitor who's competitors in most cases didn't even acknowledge the competition. The others around the table most likely agitated as they scrambled for plate-space, didn't show enough of that emotion to rattle Allan. Then again a small guy with a marine-blue turtleneck with a carefree attitude when most are a bit nervous might give people pause. Still before long he found himself engaged in conversation with a pair of siblings, features non-alike and with a harshness of tone he was well used too.
“St. Louis born and bred. Go Bayless High and now we are coming for Texas.” The sister spoke with a distinct accent. She appeared to be the most spirit of them, seeing as the brother mostly was quite and sipping punch like it was a revelation. Allan scratched his nose and turned his head nonchalantly. “Well this place is like a funnel for my family. Since three generations no matter how big the family everybody ends up going here.” Allan chuckled and grimaced. “Yep this school is basically the introduction to the family businesses” 
The sister whistled then indiscreetly murmured “Pressure” 
Allan scoffed and proclaimed without shame that although this was his first year he basically knew what needed to be known. “My brothers never shut up. Trust me on this a Blondeau-Tisdale is guarantied to graduate. “Rightie then. What dorm are you?” the sister followed with a slightly crass hopefully tone. Most likely wishing any other then hers. “Whiteha” “Its starting” the brother interrupted as beverage almost followed the words.

The information regarding the rifles and usage drew some chatter around the room. Allan was of course aware of this philosophy thanks to his brothers but he could see why it could be a cause for nervousness among his out of state peers. But here is big country, guns are not sport they are religion. The rest of the quick introduction didn't stick. If there were any safety protocols needed they would surely send a paper or an email about it. 

This Emily, girl with bangs, very interesting he thought or said. Allan had grown up fed by these rumors. One of the more infamous rumors going around, on the Tisdale side, is that his third uncle affectionately called Nutty or Naughy Perry once had run in with a ghastly presence while staying at Whitehall Dorm. The story goes that in the nearing of dusk a frighteningly pale woman, dressed in simple gowns and with saucer-like black eyes entered his room. The true nature of the meeting is a matter of dispute or alcohol-level of the teller. In any event the next day the uncle asked around and described the woman with more terms of endearment than proper. A teacher supposedly, which teacher at the time varies, led him out of campus to a nearby cemetery. He pointed a grave with a rough inscription, gave the uncle a clap on the shoulder then returned. The uncle in turn found some flowers that he placed by the grave. Finally as the story nears its ending the uncle would always conclude with the words: And I would never love another girl again. Often while sitting next to the flavor of the month love wise. 

As the senior assistant closed with the words “There are things out there that come out at night and most are really dangerous." Allan leaned towards the table and said: “Like the Wight of Whitehall that feeds on your tears.” Allan got a few laughs out of that remark most of them stiff and contrived. 
After the introduction people started to awkwardly jell as if pushed around by invisible forces. 
Instead of partaking Allan played around on his Iphone, checking his facebook, making sure his camera function was deactivated and lazy browsing. The ones near him had all but forgotten he was even there as the atmosphere got more and more relaxed. 

“Shit how long is this gonna take. We gutt'z to get partying” Allan blurted out impatiently.