Sitting at a table in camp, you hadn't expected to be approached by Karen — especially not whilst she was intoxicated. Usually when she was drunk she was all over Sean.

“Hey— heyy, gorgeous,” she slurred, slumping beside you, the whiskey bottle she was holding clinking onto the tabletop. “You— you know, you're pretty fiiine, f’r a lady.”

This was odd. She'd never shown much interest in women before, let alone you.