Having always preferred to be prepared for anything, Wednesday drew out a hiking rucksack and began to pack for the camping trip with the Nightshades on Thursday after school - they would be leaving at 07:30 on Friday, leaving barely three hours to pack then.
Practical clothes were in order. Since they would be staying two nights, two extra pairs were required, and so Wednesday brought two blouses, a pair of trousers, a walking skirt, a striped jumper, and a tailored jacket. A long black nightie, the only thing Wednesday had ever willingly worn to sleep, sufficed for pyjamas, and on trips like these it was always wise to pack a swimsuit. All the better if that swimsuit had the modesty of one from the 1800s.
In all this clothing was nary a defensive - or aggressive - weapon, so several knives and daggers, a bow with four and twenty arrows, and the choicest of the poisons were added too. Now there was just space for a small entertainment item, food, and a camping stove - the former being, with the deadline drawing ever closer, two pink silk tarlatan skirt panels and plenty of green embroidery thread, adding some colour to the otherwise monotonous bag.
Finally, the bed mat and the tent - both rolled up - were clipped to the outside of the rucksack, and it looked ready to climb every mountain, ford every stream, and follow every rainbow. Curse Camp Chippewa for making Wednesday, Pugsley and Joel watch the Sound of Music.
Just then, Enid walked in, almost collapsed from giggling, holding her phone. "What has you laughing like a maniac?", asked Wednesday, not particularly curious (since Enid's jokes simply passed over her head) but courteous.
"No - ha ha - no, sorry, it's just a meme. Ignore me and also wait you've packed already?"
"You haven't?"
"We've got time tomorrow."
"Don't blame me then if you miss anything out."
"Yeah, fine." Grumbling, Enid set to packing her own pink rucksack with jumbles of rainbow clothes, several board games, no proper camping food but an abundance of crisps and sweets, and a small camera and a microphone. Amused, Wednesday asked,
"You're video-logging the trip for the internet's sake?"
"Pics or it didn't happen."
"You're insufferable.", replied Wednesday, but in a warmer tone than usual.
"Also,", squeaked Enid in an overexcited manner, "Yoko has managed somehow to get some alcohol to bring with us!"
Wednesday did not react, other than to remove, disappointed, the bottle of poison labelled Methanol from her rucksack. No point using methanol if they were just going to antidote themselves with ethanol.
"Aren't you surprised? None of us are eighteen yet!"
"If you hadn't noticed, Enid, the law never really meant much to me. On a related note, Xavier will not be in attendance."
A disappointed, "Ohh." Then, in understanding, "Oh." Then, shocked, "Oh! Please don't have killed him!"
"Don't worry, Enid, I kept it to maiming. You cannot argue he did not deserve it. You saw the pictures he had drawn of me, without permission. I won't allow other people to feel romantic attachment toward me when I have a beautiful girlfriend."
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Enid hated to admit it, but the idea of Wednesday attacking someone just because they dared to like her made her smile.
YOU ARE READING
Wenclair - a New Term at Nevermore
FanfictionThis story takes place assuming that the stalker introduced at the end of Season 1 was caught during the ensuing holidays, and is an account of the following term at Nevermore. I will try to update every day except Wednesdays.
