Scumbag wind

Sitting cross-legged next to him: "Man, that wind was crazy last night."

On the other end, leaning back on her elbows: "Yeah. I could barely sleep. I hate the wind out here."

In the middle, now laying back with her legs crossed and hands behind her head: "I could pass out right now if it wasn't so bright."

"I probably could have slept through it if it didn't sound sound so much like a voice."

"You heard it too? I hate that. All these gnarled trees and tiny houses make some weird-ass sounds."

"And you know you're just imagining things, but you can't help trying to hear something in there anyway."

"What did you hear?"

"I don't know. I thought I kept hearing the word fiiiiirrrrrrrrrrrrrre," in a spooky howling wind voice, "and something else I couldn't make out."

"Something about a meeting? Or was it meaty?"

"Meet me at the fire?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It's the fucking wind! How am I supposed to know?"

"I really hate the wind out here sometimes. I wish it would just shut up and leave us all alone."