"I'm sorry,
what did you just say?"
The question was shrill and slightly panicked as Zara stared at a petite, yet menacing, middle aged woman who was wrapped in lavender coloured silk. She'd been here for half an hour and she already hated it. It was too hot, too bright, there was a bug in her hair now and she was expected to turn over her wand for a
peaceful, fully immersive retreat. Zara dug her heels into the sand.
"No," she scoffed, folding her arms tightly across her chest as she lifted her chin high into the air. This…wasn't at all like she was expecting. The petite blonde thought she'd be getting massages and tea and sandwiches, a private villa with a pool and complimentary green juices. Plush white linen and French doors that opened up into nature. Instead, she got a tiny lady who wasn't listening, mosquitos and —
"Tents?" Zara squeaked, her bright blue eyes wide as dinner plates as she shot a scowl at Prosper and immediately rounded on him. "You made me come here," she hissed, her eyes narrowed, her index finger pointing, the humidity finally reaching her hair and making it poof up like a poodle. "This was not in the literature," she accused her friend. In actual fact, it was, she just looked at the pictures and made an assumption but that wasn't the point. The point was that she was
mad. And maybe a little bit hungry.
Zara turned around to see the other people milling around, willingly handing over their wands with a smile as they collected their sleeping bags and equipment. "No," she whined again, this time sounding defeated because the cute little lady wasn't taking no for an answer.
Without a wand, she'd have to kill Prosper with her bare hands. Zara looked up above and saw some coconuts hanging and her full lips turned downwards into a thoughtful frown - she supposed she could always hit him over the head with one if the need arose. In her distraction, the woman snatched Zara's wand out of her hand with stealth and speed and the ballerina let out a squawk of indignation.
"Oi!" She called after her retreating back but the damage was done and Zara felt her heart sink slowly into the pit of her stomach. A warm, gentle breeze ruffled the leaves and an unusual bird call caught on the wind. Her shoulders slumped. "I want my own tent," she snapped at Prosper before setting her shoulders and stomping off in the direction of the camp.
@Prosper Lachapelle 
