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An Unceasing Hunger

Against the mountains of the American Northwest is a relatively small state park centered around the modestly sized Lake Luton. This park is the sole source of tourism for the nearby township, also named Luton. The inhabitants generally appreciate the various campers, hikers, swimmers, and other park-goers that provide income for the small businesses that populate the area.

It is in this park that the protagonists of this tale find themselves. However, before we look at these individuals, let us look at their surroundings.

Within this park is a great pine forest, the conical evergreens reaching their peaks into the sky to grasp for the light of the sun. The earth below the mighty pines is shaded by the canopy they provide. With little sun reaching the forest floor, the undergrowth is sparse at best, leaving a carpet of discarded pinecones and brown needles to provide ground cover.

The only places where dense, low-lying plant life thrives are in those areas where the trees are separate enough that precious sunlight may break through the canopy. The most notable sites are along the coast of the lake and along the side of the road, which marks one of the park's borders.

The park itself has a modest network of paved roads and small parking lots so visitors and park staff can easily traverse the area. The park is also home to nearly a dozen different hiking trails and a smattering of paved biking paths.

Lake Luton itself is rather magnificent. It may not be large enough to make it onto most maps, but it is by no means small. It sits several hundred feet across at its widest point in a rough egg shape. The narrow end of this egg is the inlet of the small river of mountain meltwater that feeds the lake. Most of the coastline is choked by dense plant growth, but two areas on opposite sides of the lake have been cleared away and made into smooth gravel beaches, which each have a nearby campsite that they serve.

One site is little more than a restroom and water spigot with an open dirt area where campers can set campfires or pitch tents, three of which currently dot the otherwise bare land.

The opposite site is somewhat more civilized. Six log cabins spaced well apart look out over the lake. Even from the outside, modern amenities can be seen. The porches have electric lights, a satellite dish on each of the rooves, and even a modest air conditioning unit for any warm periods.
These two sites are reached by a paved road that comes from the park entrance and splits near the wide end of Lake Luton, directly adjacent to the boat rental and launch.

A short way down this road, back toward the park entrance, is the Park Lodge. The lodge is a grand, beautiful building that could nearly be mistaken for a mansion at first glance. It is a gathering place for all sorts. From a series of seating areas where you can sit in comfort while admiring the beauty of nature, to a knowledge center where park rangers can tell you all about the various plants, animals, and other sorts of life that inhabit the area, to a general store where you can buy anything you may need for a camping trip, to a small restaurant that serves perfectly acceptable, albeit stereotypical, American fare.

Today, that lodge, and in fact, the rest of the park, is not very densely populated. It is already mid-afternoon, and the park only has about a dozen visitors, and it is in those dozen visitors we find our protagonists.

Now, let us turn our attention away from the environment we find ourselves in and instead turn it to those people that we see within it.