by 
On the fifth day of their trek in the forests of Upper Italy, the boys finally reached their campsite. Immediately throwing down their heavy shoulder luggage.
Neigel wiped the sweat from his brow with a blue-red-white striped scout cloth, as he had done countless times before, so that by now the cloth was worn and faded, a sign of his challenges. Just like his once dark blue shirt and the shirts of the other boys had long since seen better days, but that was how it was supposed to be.
Walter tossed him his sleeping roll, which Neigel quickly caught and then threw himself with it onto the soft forest soil. The others came panting after them and, exhausted but happy, after some banter about who should look for the firewood, they began to set up their place. The heavy fabric pods for their spacious tent were hoisted onto the appropriate brackets, Mark and Vincent, the other scouts, doing so in routine fashion.
"Soon it will be your baptism!", Neigel called out to Vincent, the youngster, and everyone laughed in joyful and comradely anticipation, as Vincent was the only one who had not yet received his name. Neigel, who had been christened "Surfboard", had to endure his baptism in the form of remoulade and mustard in his hair and had been given things to eat that he would never have eaten in his life had it not been part of the ritual.
"Eh really, guys, don't mess with me!", Vincent replied, but of course knew full well it would come to exactly that. Earning the name was a mixture of fun and seriousness. Oddly enough, at home, one failed to pull off this form of character wisdom and slyness. But even though Vincent anticipated his initiation, he also was a bit hesitant.
There were only four of them who had hiked up to the hill this time and they would meet the rest of the group again in a few days. Surfboard, as the oldest and in charge of the small flock, turned to his comrades as they sat around the cosy crackling fire and hungrily gobbled down their dinner, the obligatory tinned ravioli and Vienna sausages. Still chewing, he said, "Tomorrow two of us are going down to the next village. We urgently need new provisions. Who volunteers?"
Walter, who was called "Ram", was the first to speak up: "Me in any case, I have to shit so badly, no one will believe me!"
"And may the Ram have some flowered toilet paper?" interjected Mark, aka "Please", who couldn't understand how anyone could crave sanitary facilities when the whole point of their venture was precisely to escape from pleasant civilisation. "Say, can't you do your business among the trees like any normal pathfinder, are you a real woodsman or a sissy from the city?"
"Shut up, Please! You don't know how it tears your guts apart if you can't poop!"
Vincent was holding his girth in laughter because Surfboard had pulled his trousers halfway down, pretending to press and then giving up exhausted. With his shorts still down, Surfboard dropped to one side and shouted, "Done, good old battering Ram, you shall have the pleasure of an enamelled toilet bowl again! I'm guessing that Please doesn't want to join, so Vincent and you are going to the village together."
"Next time I'll stay at the camp, I promise," Vincent, still chuckling, got immediately excited by the prospect that he would probably meet girls in the village.
Girls, after all. They had it better on their hiking trips anyway. Once, a group of eight had managed to stay at a local's place, a farmer had opened a barn for them and on another occasion, according to Vincent, a teacher had even invited them to spend the night at his house, including dinner.
"Hellooh, good evening, kind sir, I'm a girl, tinkle, tinkle. Can't you let us in, we're starving and dying of thirst here in the wicked hard world," Please mimicked what he meant by girlishness. "
Remember when we were chased away by that crazy guy who set his dog on us?"
"Shoosh, yeah, that's right, or when we got lost in the bog and came out at a wind turbine where the workers looked at us like aliens?"
So the evening passed in cheerful chit-chat and during night they slept peacefully.
The next morning, Vincent and Ram having already set off down into the valley more than two hours ago, Please and Surfboard spent their morning in relaxed silence.
Surfboard, who was cutting a stick for a piece of grilled meat and whistling a tune, was interrupted by his friend: "Shht! Listen, do you hear something? That can't possibly be the boys."
Surfboard put down his carving and both looked in the direction from which they heard sounds. From the undergrowth they saw a figure coming in their direction. It waved at them from a distance.
In approaching them, they realized a man, already a bit aged, conspicuous about him was his rather run-down appearance, but in another way he seemed even elegant, with a hat on the already gray curls protruding under it and dressed with a walking stick. "Good day, buona giornata, young gentlemen!" he called to them. Eyes shining bright.
Honourable authors, fellow participants and lovers of dedicated exchange, here you find the second round of the "Continue the Story" competition!
An unfinished fiction story is posted. This time: "The Encounter in the Woods".
You finish it with your own post on your blog.
Please insert the text of the above begun story in your posting!
Use #continuethestory as your first tag.
Make your entry visible by linking it in the comment section.
Duration of the competition: One week.
A limit of 500-700 words is recommended.
If you don't slavishly adhere to it, it's no big deal. But going over the limit too rampantly will result in few or no people being inclined to read and engage with your story.
Rating/voting on the entries of other authors are highly welcomed - you can vote by whim or use the suggested rating system in this post.
8 Hive for the winner
5 Hive for the 2nd
3 Hive for the 3d
A well-executed story should include the following elements:
Use of the characters already touched upon and a deepening of them.
Continue the plot within the framework, although artistic freedom should not suffer, but avoid time travel or other elements that strain the plot too much. Of course, there is nothing wrong with psychedelic journeys if they carry the flow of the story ;-)
Anyone planning to improve their writing style will welcome an engaging commentary that points out weaknesses as well as strengths. Commenting is not about exclusively praising and expressing enthusiasm (which, of course, is gratefully welcomed). Use constructive feedback.
Within the 7 day window, this feedback might be used for alterations of the finished story by the author, so you may give your final vote in Hive value more to the end of the time window. But give your feedback/rating early on.
Looking forward to your entries.
Briefly about the background of the story: My son is a scout and I took some of what he reported after his travels as an opportunity to weave it in here. Among other things, the location and an encounter that he told me had impressed the boys and him. It was a pleasure to listen to his travel experiences and to use them here.
