As the tops of Camm's ears turned pink, the tip of her nose did. She'd always hated the way embarrassment manifested on her face. Isla had always been called cute, never hot, never sexy, always cute and it was dumb little things that her body did like that which further cemented the fact. She didn't respond to his comment. As an avid people watcher, Isla took her social cues from her peers and naturally, she figured it was best to accept it silently.
"One day," she told Camm assertively as she wrapped her fingers around his loosely. Her other hand delicately brushed the rough bits of the heathery moor, her finger tips touching the long grass as the moss squelched under her soles. Every time they touched, Isla felt a zing of electricity shoot up the length of her spine. Camm was the only boy she'd ever been close to and she had no qualms about taking things slow. It was a big change, from friends to lovers but she couldn't think of anyone else she'd rather make that leap with.
After lobbing her rock, she sat down. Closing her eyes, she inhaled the crisp air. She lived in Edinburgh. A lively, beautiful, historic city but it was rather polluted. Here was so clear and so pure and the only noise around was the gentle lap of the lake against the shoreline and the occasional seagull up above. Isla laid down, the dry grass making a pillow as she tilted her unusual face to the sky. Above, clouds were floating by and the one directly ahead looked like a pumpkin.
She smiled. "A bit," she admitted to him. Isla was thrilled Camm mentioned his family. It meant that he trusted her. They were both different and yet similar. Their blood was different, as was their homelife but they were both timid and deep thinkers. "My granddad has a car," she replied as her eyes tracked the cloud as it drifted by. "But he did something wrong and it blew up and singed his eyebrows off." She'd heard of his siblings and met Caoimhe peripherally. She seemed sweet and Camm was fiercely protective of her. Isla said nothing further. To her, his patchwork family seemed exciting and different compared to her rather dull set up.
The petite blonde girl sat up as he spoke, those butterflies fluttering around in her tummy as she blushed at his kind words. Leaning in a little, she rested her chin on Camm's shoulder, her warm nose pressing gently into the side of his neck briefly in a quasi-kiss. She wished she was better at this, better at communicating. She wanted to tell Camm that he was precious and lovely and she appreciated him and she loved this trip and she was wildly flattered by his thoughtfulness. It was also on the tip of her tongue to tell him that she was quite possibly in love with him.
"Yeah!" Isla gushed enthusiastically, her large eyes bright and shining as she looked at the rune. "I love treasure hunts," she admitted with a grin that turned her from merely pretty to downright beautiful. "Let's go!" She exclaimed, hopping to her feet and gently taking the rune from Camm's hands. "It's like a guide?" She assumed as she handled the small object. It felt strangely warm as she rolled it over in her palms and ran her fingers over the dents and scratches.
Internally, she cringed. It seemed like the perfect time to tell Camm that she thought he was her treasure but had those words left her lips, she might have tried to drown herself in the tarn. Isla held it flat in her palm and the run began to quiver. Swiftly, it moved, pointing east like a compass and the tip began to glow. Looking up, she saw it seemed to point them to the other part of the lake. There was a clean path made from grass and heather and it seemed to be a bit of an incline that lead only lead up.
The blonde let out a giggle as she set off at a fast pace, using the rune as a compass as she steadily climbed up. It was a short walk until the pair of teenagers reached a small
forest. The sun dappled through the trees and the air smelt like spoil and pine. The floor was uneven and covered in slippery moss and fir needles and someone had used fallen branches and existing tree roots to make some sort of path upwards. "I wonder where it is," she mused, head tilted upwards and distracted by the tall trunks. Isla stopped briefly to thoughtfully stroke the rough bark of a nearby tree. Maybe there was a particularly old tree or something? Glens and forests and woodland energised her in a way that nothing else could. "What should we leave behind, do you think?" Isla wanted to leave a note or a quick doodle of the glen.