The gang of three finally made it to the woods, it was dark under those leaves, and they seemed to cover the area in a shadow. Billy couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched but shoved it off, as a case of the heebie jeebies. The trees made him feel small in a way, they were so tall and older, giving off a sense of mystery. He looked into the forest and could only remember playing tag with his sister, in a similar setting. A good memory, turned painful in an instant.
Billy noticed that the other two were staring, he avoided eye contact as he abruptly said, "Thought I saw something in there, must be my imagination! Anyways lets collect some good size chunks then I can cut them up. We wouldn't want to take too long, I'm sure the others are just dying of boredom without us."
Billy then got to work, collecting some decent sized sticks about as wide as his arm. He swung the hatchet down, over and over again, forming a small pile. He repeated this several times before becoming tired out, panting he said, "Alright, who wants a turn," He paused to catch his breath, "With the hatchet? I'm too old for this.