Curious Chicklet Campfire, Tuesday Evening

[thismaskiwear]

To say that Katchoo was less than thrilled about this whole cabin experience was like saying that Georgia O'Keefe had had a vague, passing interest in flower metaphors. (Katchoo could have told her a thing or two about dirty flower artwork, but anyway.)

Hoping nobody would bug her if she was surrounded by a cloud of smoke, she was set up beside the campfire with a pack of her usual cheap cigarettes and a sketchbook, staring absently at the blank page in front of her. Communal living was hell on her creativity.

[OOC: You know the drill -- open!]