The nudge to her shoulder is too worried to be gentle. It's more of a yank, and then another follows for good measure. As soon as she stirs, Clarisse draws her hand back, but she stays where she is, crouched next to Abby in her pajamas, her hair a mess.
It's morning. Barely. Pale light is bleeding in through the gap in the tent flap, and though they’re in Clarisse's new temperature-controlled tent, the quality of the light suggests fog and a slight chill in the air, at least until the sun gets a little stronger a couple hours from now.
It's not strange for Clarisse to be up this early. (Unfortunately.) It's not even weird for her to be waking everyone else up, on purpose or by accident.
What's strange is everything else, the sense of something being slightly off. Wrong.
action
The nudge to her shoulder is too worried to be gentle. It's more of a yank, and then another follows for good measure. As soon as she stirs, Clarisse draws her hand back, but she stays where she is, crouched next to Abby in her pajamas, her hair a mess.
It's morning. Barely. Pale light is bleeding in through the gap in the tent flap, and though they’re in Clarisse's new temperature-controlled tent, the quality of the light suggests fog and a slight chill in the air, at least until the sun gets a little stronger a couple hours from now.
It's not strange for Clarisse to be up this early. (Unfortunately.) It's not even weird for her to be waking everyone else up, on purpose or by accident.
What's strange is everything else, the sense of something being slightly off. Wrong.