If there was something Dimitri was good at when it came to camping, it was building a decent fire. He could even manage the part about sitting and staring at the fire while his mind churned through all the things he wasn't supposed to be worrying about. It wasn't emo, guardians didn't get emo, it was more an unfortunate awareness.

Clearly this was why God invented campfire food. And why Dimitri had gathered a pile of sticks and a bag of marshmallows.

In a week everything would be different. Back to a normal he didn't want to remember where his heightened senses would be of better use than determining just when his marshmallow was cooked to perfection. And a normal where he wouldn't allow himself to remember where he'd learned this particular method of burning marshmallows.

Dimitri sniffed the air. Acquired tastes be damned, his marshmallow was burnt as hell.

[Open like a campfire!]