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[color=gray][indent][indent]Ambrose tried not to look aghast at the thought of a simple raft “keeping the demons at bay.” Though the color drained out of his evenly tanned face. Anyone that knew that young Hightower man would know that he was wildly superstitious. The more supernatural it seemed, the further he wanted to do with it. Someone had witnessed him scoop spilled salt in his hand and throw it over his shoulder once. Mostly because it blew into a woman’s face and screaming commenced as salt in the eyes was not a pleasant sensation. So, he tried to keep his superstitions to a minimum.

He followed her, looking over the boat as they moved towards it. The entire affair reminded him of certain ceremonial displays he had seen in museums or preserved landmarks whenever he and his mother would visit Ambrose Hightower the First. They represented something far away and not at all to be found downtown in the small, rural town he currently called home. He’d lived here for several years, but never really taken part in the festivities. Usually, he was abroad during the summer. This one had been different as his parents had both become too busy to plan or fund such a trip. So, here he was. 

There was a sort of a reverence held by the townspeople that made him keep his hands firmly rooted in his pockets and his feet one right in front of the other. As if one foul move would ruin the entire celebration and send demons clattering onto the docks with unbridled fury. He refused to be the bull in the china shop that released the End of Days upon the Earth. 

He glanced down at Freyja as she admitted to being the star of the entire song and dance. Ambrose nodded in approval, as if it was warranted or wanted. When the older woman sniped that it wasn’t a silly tradition, the chills returned back to his spine. “I don’t want to think about the fact I’ve been swimming alongside demons,” he said. A wince bubbled up at the edges of his smile.

Ambrose focused on the fisherman with the beam, not wanting to think about the literal hell that was their lake. While he may not have been the sharpest knife in any drawer, he wasn’t stupid enough to throw his back out by refusing help. With a bit of grunting and sleeve rolling, they were able to get it up, and there Ambrose held it still. This is the part he’d show off. He had the stamina to hold something heavy for a while. There were implications there, but the ones that crossed his mind mostly had to do with highlighting his strength and balance. Not that he couldn’t be a horny teenager, but his brain was too busy making sure that he didn’t sweat too hard. He didn’t want to lose grip. His feet bit into the ground below as he became oddly silent with the task at hand.

It was then that an inflatable tube man of a boy came up, floundering about like a fish begging for water on the shore. Ambrose wasn’t too interested in him now, as he seemed to beeline to Freyja. Maybe he had a crush? And speaking of crush… the beam was trying to do that to his spine. Yet, Ambrose’s thoughts ricocheted away from muscle strain when he heard the other remark on his height.

“Dude…” he grunted, “we’re like the same height. “ He exhaled. “You can help if you like, but don’t throw me off balance. The lake demons will eat us, otherwise.”
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