"I'm pretty much the worst person in the world to take camping," Kate said with a laugh, looking at the designs drawn in the sand. If she'd been sitting alone on the beach waiting for someone, she never would have thought to make something so pretty and she grinned as she looked at it. "The last time I went camping was in my grandparents' RV, which isn't really camping at all."

And she'd still managed to get poison ivy and spend most of the trip complaining about it. Tara had transitioned into Buck, who'd insisted on hunting for their meals and had brought back three skinned squirrels, much to her grandmother's horror. Now that she thought about it, it had been a pretty good trip.

Kate swung her bag into the canoe, careful not to break anything, then looked at it, her hands on her hips. "I guess we get wet, don't we? Pushing this out?"