Brad was a talker. Lucky for him, his voice was not unpleasant. She didn’t mind listening, because it certainly didn’t seem like he was interested in a conversation with her. Sure, he turned to look at her every now and then. Mostly, it seemed, to make sure she was listening. And every time he landed his gaze upon her she was looking right back at him, a smile on her face. It was better if she didn’t have to talk -- better if she didn’t have to try and make up small talk. 

They weren’t too far into the trail before Brad announced the name of the trail.

[i]“Spider Lake Trailhead…Sounds ominous.”[/i]

She gladly accepted his offer of peanuts and raisins. 

“It isn’t really,” she said, chewing on the bit of trail mix he’d shared. She figured they would find a place to rest in an hour or so, and she could eat some of her snacks there. “It’s called that because…well, it sort of looks like a spider from an aerial view. The big main body, and then several protruding branches -- little creeks and such.”

Eva shrugged a bit and hooked her thumbs into the straps of her backpack, pulling on them to ease some of the tension on her shoulders. She had packed light, but she wasn’t accustomed to hiking, and walking with gear on her back was something she hadn’t done since her high school days. 

[i]“Onimous,”[/i] Brad repeated.

She looked at him with pinched brows.

[i]“Sounds like a good band name?”[/i]

She wondered if he was really asking -- if he was, she’d tell him that [i]no[/i], it [i]did not[/i] sound like a good band name. But he wasn’t really asking. He just kept talking.

[i]“Jack thinks my violin is a perfect piece for our folk rock image.”[/i]

She noticed he had eaten an M&M and frowned internally at the fact that he had not given her any chocolate. Turning to stare straight ahead, she kept walking, as the trail began to climb to a gentle incline. But the ground was wet, and there were smooth, mossy stones along the path which were far more slippery than they appeared 

[i]“Not that I like to define my band, that is. It’s more like ‘rock folk’ meets ‘folk rock’, Omina meets Beethoven meets Ozzy Osbourn, and -- Shit.”
[/i]
Brad came to a sudden stop and the sound of his fingers making a sharp and hard snap caused her to stop as well, and turn. She lost her footing in that moment and felt her heel slide forward causing her to lose all sense of balance. And with her thumbs hooked into her backpack, she didn’t have time to reach out and catch herself. 

Eva landed on her ass just as Brad lamented that he had not brought bacon.