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said.
                  “C’mon, don’t be a baby,” she said, urging him on with a wave.
                  “No! I’m serious, this is… if you’re not going to be an adult about this,” he began and saw a suddenly hurt look in her face.
                  “Baby? Seriously, Shane? I’ve been living on my own for a decade, with no help from anyone. You want to call me a baby?”
                  “I didn’t meant it like that,” he said, “I just think… we should be more careful here.”
                  “We’re fine, Shane.”
                  “I don’t think so,” he said, folding his arms.
                  He didn’t really want to stand up to her like this. It was true, she probably knew more about living in the wild than he did, but it didn’t ease any of his fears. She was being childish, that was clear, and he had a duty and obligation to protect her even if she hated him for it.
                  She snubbed her nose at him. “Fine. Stay here. I’m going ahead… I want a picture with a good view. If you want to wait for me, that’s okay too,” she said and turned with a disappointed shrug of her shoulders.
                  “Lily!” he almost shouted, and was alarmed at how well his voice carried in the still air. Her name echoed through the columns of fir they were walking through and she turned very slowly and looked down on him.
                  “Your choice,” she said, and there was now a firmness in her voice.
                  She kept walking up the trail and he watched her go for several seconds and swore under his breath. Child , he wanted to scream, but knew it would do more harm than good. He didn’t want to give her any more reason to wander off, and muttered as much to himself as he grunted up the path.
                  After about another fifteen minutes he was gasping again and bent over with his palms on his thighs and saw that Lily was sitting cross-legged on a rock outcrop. He stumbled onto the rock and saw that she had chosen a good place for a picture, after all. It didn’t excuse her actions, but at least now she’d be satisfied and they could go back.
                  “Don’t yell at me again,” she said, not bothering to look up.
                  “What?” he gasped.
                  “I said don’t yell at me again.” Her voice was level and he could tell that she was still harboring some anger. She uncrossed her legs and he saw her lips were pursed into a frown, and one of her eyebrows had slanted downward, giving her a quizzical pissed-off kind of look. He gasped for another breath.
                  “I didn’t…. listen, I didn’t meant to yell. I’m just… out of my element, up here.”
                  “I get that,” she said, “I just don’t like being yelled at.”
                  “I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to yell at you, really. It won’t happen again, okay?”
                  He sat down with a whoof next to her and crossed his legs. The smell of the trees was overpowering, like a verdant cologne that was at once intoxicating and perilously wild. She sat back on her hands and bend her head back, her long smooth neck forming an almost straight line with her chest.
                  He picked up the camera beside her and there was an audible click as he snapped a photo. She turned her head, still posing, and stuck her tongue out at him, and he snapped another.
                  “Perfect, I love it,” he grinned, “although I’m not much of a photographer.”
                  “Me neither, I only take pictures of scenery, never of people.”
                  “I guess it’s all about what you’re shooting that counts,” he said, and snapped another as she gave him a