"Damn, John, how much further?"

"Just a little. What are you complaining for? This was your idea."

"I know, but..."

Finn didn't want to whine, but he wasn't much of an outdoors-y type of person. If he had his way, he would much rather spend his days indoors in front of his computer than he would exploring the outdoors. Being a little spooked by bugs was probably the worst factor of his anxiety, but he was also ultimately just not very fit-- he was average in frame, but didn't work out all that often, and certainly didn't have an impressive amount of stamina, unlike John. The brown-furred otter was remarkably good at this sort of thing and his son, Charlie, took after his dad in the same way.

The hybrid sucked in a deep breath and picked up speed as they ascended a steep incline towards the forestry above, with John taking the lead. The otter was meticulous in keeping an eye on his kid, but more or less left Finn to his own devices; that was fine, since it would take him a while to get up anyway. He raised his head to watch the otter direct his son on where to place his feet, and the 8-year-old Dalmatian teetered and reached out to grab his father's hands as he climbed up, mostly using the roots for footing. The hill was steep enough to make it difficult to get up without them, and he had no doubt it was the same for the other two as well.

Thankfully, there wasn't much further to go. After a few minutes, Finn could see the trees above starting to level out, and inevitably the frame of John and Charlie's bodies disappeared over the lip of the hill and beyond. The hybrid picked up the pace to go after them, lugging along his medium-sized rucksack was he went, filled with a variety of supplies. When he reached the top, the other two were waiting patiently for him, and he smiled his appreciation before he followed after them.

"I haven't actually hiked up here before..." John muttered. "But hell, look at the view. Real pretty, ain't it?"

Finn took a moment to breathe, but when he raised his head to look at the landscape beyond, it was hard not to gasp. They stood more or less atop a fairly expansive hill, but the woodland beyond was a series of rolling hills and occasionally tall cliffs, giving the landscape the appearance of a grassy valley more than anything else. Charlie teetered towards the lip of the hill, where the slop dipped down into the woods beyond, and he peered out over the hills with a wide-eyed gaze. Between two of them, far in the distance, was the tiny speck of their city-- they'd driven an hour or so outside of the city to where they were now, so it wasn't that surprising.

"It's amazing." Finn mumbled, and when he glanced to John, the otter was bearing a toothy grin, proud of himself for finding such a place.

"Hell yeah," He laughed, before making a gesture to Finn's backpack. "So how about some lunch? You look like you need it."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Finn didn't know why he'd chosen to carry the supplies, but it was probably why had lagged behind the other two. With a shrug of his shoulders, he unhooked the strap from the right hand side and swung it across the left, dropping it onto the grass between his feet. He unrolled a quilt that sat on top and passed it to John, who draped it out over the grass for them to sit on, despite it being warm and sunny. Charlie turned and plopped down onto the quilt, crossing his legs and staring out over the valley as Finn unzipped the bad and reached inside for a tupper ware box. Inside was a set of three different sandwiches that John had packed up that morning before Finn had come over-- all the hybrid had to do was pop the lid and hand them out, guessing who each was for by the contents...for the most part, anyway. He knew Charlie had a fancy sandwich with swiss cheese, turkey, mayonnaise and lettuce, whilst Finn ultimately preferred ham and cheese. It was easy to deduce who remained after that, so John got his last.

For a moment, they sat there in silence, chewing thoughtfully amongst themselves. None of them needed to talk about anything and the beauty of the nature around them was enough to fill the silence. Finn was, of course, a little nervous, but his attention was mostly in eating more than anything else. They all sort of sat facing each other in a circle, and though the adults mostly kept still, Charlie was often twisting himself around to look around him, enraptured by the wonder of it all.

"So, uh, John," Finn began, having already finished half of his food; he was ravenous. "How did you find out about this place anyway?"

"Oh!" John beamed. "I just sort of heard about it on a few hiking forums."

"Is it known for something?" Finn frowned, and John averted his gaze for a moment, chewing his food. He could tell John was hiding something, but it was hard to say what.

"Dad, I'm done," Charlie suddenly piped up, and sure enough his hands were empty, and crumbs dotted his young face. "Is there any dessert?"

"Hungry little guy, ain'tcha?" John chuckled, reaching over to grab the pack from Finn's side and dragged it towards him. Charlie scooted across the quilt towards him and Finn watched from afar, a smirk crossed his features as the otter rummaged his way through the backpack, adjusting his slightly sweaty shirt with a hand before diving it into the pack with the other. He withdrew a small chocolate bar and Charlie leant forwards, reaching out with his hand. With a grin, John pulled his own hand back and Charlie whined, trying to reach for it-- that, however, was impossible. The more John raised his hand, the more Charlie tried to reach for it, until the 8-year-old's muzzle was close to John's own. The adult kissed his son's cheek and hooked his other arm around him, cuddling him close as he dropped his other hand, handing him the bar.

"It's known for being pretty secluded," John replied to Finn, dipping his head and peppering a few sweet kisses upon his son's head. "And it's pretty, too."

"I agree with you there." Finn muttered, finishing off his last sandwich before he leant forwards and rested his elbows on his crossed legs. The nature was serene, despite his anxiety-- it felt nice. Cosy, even. When he looked over at John, he was cuddled up tightly with his son, who nestled against him as if it were the most normal thing in the world; it was, of course. The Dalmatian hooked his legs up and John swept his other hand under him, placing it around his lower legs and dipping his head, closing his eyes. Finn couldn't help but smile at the sight.

Well, at least it was nice with just the three of them.