Charles wandered  around the area of Lovers Haven with his faithful bloodhound Lucius in tow. The lean and stout hound sniffed the ground diligently for any interesting and unusual scents. A gift from his father for his twelfth birthday, Lucius was one of the few possessions that Charles treasured. A strong and intelligent animal with a regal bearing, it possessed the qualities that Charles admired the most. Like most loving pet owners, Charles felt more of attachment to his loyal bloodhound than any person he knew. For those who knew Charles the most, it was obvious that the reason behind the attachment to his bloodhound was more than just its "regal bearing".

The clearing itself was a lot less spooky during the day, but no less beautiful. The rocky monolith of Ghost Rock itself did not glow in the light of the sun, though it was majestic all the same. Admittedly though it was getting quite hot in the early afternoon sun. Charles wished not to spend any more time there than was absolutely necessary. He wasn't exactly the camping type. It was either first class or nothing.

All of a sudden, Lucius began to bark excitedly. He then pulled on the black leather leash that was bound to his red collar. Lucius pulled Charles along on the trail of the scent. 

[color=gold]"What is it boy!?[/color] Charles asked his pet.

Lucius led Charles away from the monolith of Ghost Rock and into one of the surrounding thicket of trees to the north of the area. The trees were extra thick around this area, making it a tad bit inconvenient to traverse. It was a few meters in that a very small clearing was found in which stood quite a stunted tree. The diligent hound walk towards that tree amidst the thicket then pawed at the base of it. The pawing then became a dig. A few moments later Lucius unearthed something rather interesting. Such a find brought a mischievous smile to Charles' face.

[color=gold]"Good boy! Who's a good boy!"[/color] praised Charles whilst he patted Lucius lovingly.

Charles then lifted the camera that hung from a strap around his neck. He took as many pictures as he felt he needed to. Those Salt Bay bozos were way too easy to manipulate, it seemed. The ease of which almost negated the fun of it all, well, almost.