"Over the tops of it, beginning to dusk under a young white moon, trailed a wavering ghost of smoke, and at the end of it I came upon the Pocket Hunter making a dry camp in the friendly scrub."

Previous Quote

In preseason camp, there are no friends. when newcomers arrive trying to take not only your job, but maybe your best friend's job, you work together to try to help each other. Everyone is an outsider until you're given a uniform.

— Sue Wicks