A Tender Caress

The three boys busied themselves preparing their campsite. They were all at those dawning ages of nineteen and twenty when the whole world was newly theirs and their stomping grounds had given way to new frontiers to master. Nevertheless, Duncan regarded the flimsy polyester tents with dismay as Archie and Oliver struggled to make a campfire.

"Not satisfied with our accommodations, mister Scotsman?" Teased Oliver, using his worst impression of a received pronunciation accent.

"Fuck off, Ollie," replied Duncan tersely as he held each of his elbows and hunched his shoulders.

Of in the distant sunset was the shrill chorus of crows which caused him to flinch and let out a barely audible gasp. In the openness of this highland clearing, the sound seemed to come from all directions at once. The two other boys casually chuckled at him. Duncan shook his head and went to inspect his tent pegs as his tent struggled against the evening wind.

Archie kept trying to light the fire as he looked through his brows at Duncan. "Just chill, mate, it's only a bit of fun. You're acting a bit naff is all."

"Just get that fire lit," responded Duncan, "it'll be dark soon."

"I'm going as fast as I can, mate," scowled Archie.

Duncan growled from deep within his throat. "It would be faster if someone hadn't forgot the matches, and the food..."

"And the beer!" Said Oliver, interrupting, "Look, Duncan, this isn't like you! Where's that adventurous spirit gone?"

Duncan exhaled his tension through his nostrils. "Look, neither of you would understand. You're not from here; none of you had your nan filling your ear of stories about what prowls nights like these. This isn't uni, this is serious!"

Oliver backed off. "Sorry, I never took you for the superstitious type is all."

"I got it!" Archie shouted.

Sure enough, a weak little flame was struggling against the wind and evening mist. Archie looked like he was just declared valedictorian while Duncan and Olliver looked at each other grimly.

"It's better than nothing." Duncan decided.

The three boys gathered around the fire, warming their hands against the faltering warmth. They sat their for a long time, each gnawing on what meager snacks they remembered to bring.

"You know, I thought this would be better," mused Archie, "braving nature in the Highlands, spending autumn like our ancestors. But look, it's just miserable, cold, and wet!"

Duncan managed a chuckle. "You know what my grandad would say to you, Archie? Damn thin-blooded Sassenach."

The three chuckled.

Oliver seemed to have an amusing thought. "Don't you come from Argyle, Duncan?"

"Aye..."

"Because you seem to be shivering more than us."

Duncan managed a smile. "Shut it."

"You know what would warm me up?" Oliver began.

"What?" Asked Archie.

He smiled devilishly. "Something London's got plenty of that can't be found here: a woman. And I ain't talking about some elder hag, I'm talking a proper beauty, like."

Archie looked up at the stars. "Mmm... I'm thinking of my Nancy, all alone in Preston without me."

Duncan's eyes widened as he was about to say something scolding, but he was interrupted by something in the distance. It sounded like singing, far, yet also close.

"What's that?" Asked Archie.

"Seems God was listening, eh?" Joked Oliver, starting to rise from his patch of ground.

Duncan held up a hand. "No, don't go looking for it, Ollie."

Oliver laughed. "Why not?"

Duncan seemed to be empty of words. "Just don't... please."

"Alright, scaredy-cat," said Ollie, sitting back down.

Archie spoke in sincere urgency. "Shouldn't we go searching, they could be in trouble!"

Duncan shook his head as his face flushed white with foreboding. "Ignore it mate, trust me. Besides, it sounds like it's coming closer."

Before long, a voice rang from the darkness. "Hello?"

It was soft and tender, almost delicate yet also confident.

"Hello?" Answered Duncan.

A group of three warmly dressed woman hikers entered the clearing at the edge of the firelight.

"If you boys wouldn't mind, could we join you? My sisters and I are on holiday and we're horribly lost." The girl speaking at the head of the group had bright blond hair and piercing blue eyes. Neither of the boys could look away.

The two woman beside her were no less beautiful, one being blonde and more muscular in figure and another brunette and more athletic. While Archie and Oliver ogled in uncontrolled admiration, Duncan took a moment to analyze the situation. It was something about the eyes. He couldn't quite place it.

Oliver considered the situation, trying to place their accents while straightening his shoulders and puffing out his chest. "Are you ladies American?"

The leading woman giggled, the hint of a blush appearing on her shadow-dappled cheeks. "Canadian, actually."

The three boys looked at each other. Oliver and Archie's gazes betrayed an expectable amount of lust. Only Duncan seemed perturbed. He subtly shook his head but was silently outvoted by his companions.

"We'd be delighted if you'd join us," said Oliver charmingly.

"Come on over," added Archie kindly.

In that moment, an unseen tension was released as the women advanced. The lady who had spoken had sat with Oliver, as they had been sharing glances throughout the exchange, the other blonde sat with Archie, and the brunette with Duncan. They huddled close together, though Duncan left a respectable distance between the brunette.

"Why so shy?" asked the brunette.

"Well," Duncan offered, stuttering long enough to conjure an appropriate excuse, "we don't know each other well, do we."

She giggled. "I'm Alexandra, the one who introduced us is my sister Eleanor, and the other is Eva.

Oliver and Archie were seeming to get along well with their new respective companions. Oliver and Eleanor were exchanging flirtatious quips while Archie and Eva were exchanging cute little shy glances. Duncan saw this from the corner of his eye and couldn't help but smile.

"A pleasure," he said, offering his hand to shake. Alexandra accepted graciously.

The night slowly drew on beneath the dismal weather. The girls turned out to be excellent singers and invited the men to dance. They all accepted and three pairs slowly and amorously twirled around the flickering fire. Afterwards, everyone seemed to grow tired.

Eleanor spoke, "We do have some food with us, if you'd like."

"And a bottle of wine," Eva grinned.

The boys perked up. Each had been ignoring their hunger and thirst quite intently.

"Oh, thank you," crooned Oliver, "you lot are life-savers!"

"Thanks!" Chimed Archie.

The words thank you nearly erupted from Duncan's lips, but something in the back of his mind stole them instead. So he offered, "Your generosity is most appreciated."

The girls looked at each other with rapacious glimpses. Eleanor licked her lips. Only Alexandra seemed to have a more thoughtful expression as she peeked at Duncan from the corner of her eye.

"Such gentlemen," Eva said.

"Always," responded Oliver, but his face and eagerness betrayed ulterior intentions.

Warm food was eventually passed around along with the bottle of wine. When Alexandra last passed the bottle to Duncan, her hand brushed against his. He felt something then, a silent urge. He stared into her welcoming brown eyes, again with a certain quality to them that he couldn't place. As Eva and Eleanor began dragging the other boys willingly back to their tents, Duncan began feeling his resolve melt like butter near a hearth.

Alexandra bit her lip and smiled. "So... it's so cold out here..."

The tension he had been holding seemed to fade with every second he shared her gaze, every apprehension dissolved with every word she spoke. It was so easy, so strange, so magnetic.

Then he returned to his senses. The next words left his lips stinging his heart like a betrayal. Every fiber of his core trembled with dismay.

"You go on, take the tent. It's my gift. I'll sleep out here."

Suddenly she was shocked, perhaps even hurt. She nodded as if she wasn't sure he got her meaning. "But I'll be all alone."

Her lip quivered in mock sadness as she leaned towards him, the tips of her fingers caressing his hand. There was a certain lasciviousness to her pouting, but also something deeper, certainly more primal. This scared the wits out of Duncan.

"I'll be fine." He said. "My sleeping bag is thick enough."

Her face went blank for a moment, but then she smiled. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "If you change your mind, you know where I'll be."

She smiled disappointedly at him before retreating to his tent and zipping him shut. Meanwhile, he prepared his sleeping bag and crawled inside.

Before he knew it, morning had come. He crawled out and stretched his limbs.

"Alright, everyone, the day is young! Let's get a move on!" Duncan shouted.

The air was cool and crisp with the breeze of autumn. A light fog had settled over the glen as he turned his attention to the campsite. Before his vision focused, his nostrils caught the scent of iron. His hackles rose the instant before both his vision cleared and his mind fully processed what he saw.

Oliver and Archie's tents were torn to shreds. Blood stained the dew-dappled ground an eldritch red as viscera, camping equipment, and torn clothing were strewn within and around each tent. Only Duncan's tent was pristine, and upon it sat a crow; a hooded crow to be precise. His lungs refused to draw any further breath as the crow's beady shimmering eyes stared directly into his.

There was a look to the crow's eyes that he could not quite place. Before he was able to react, the crow spread its wings and took flight leaving this site of horror in silence.

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This story is submitted as a part of Marie Sinadjan's Spooky Season Bingo Writing Challenge (see below) under the prompt 'myths and legends'. The specific legend I used is the Scottish myth of the baobhan sith. I love Celtic fairy lore with a passion and I endeavored to experiment with a modern retelling of this myth that was fit for spooky season. I hope you enjoyed it!