“And Mo still feels the need to hog an entire tent to himself…” he muttered, lying on his back with his hands clasped tightly against his stomach. He had yet been forced into another situation where he has to be in close measure with you — despite his blooming distaste.

“Mind moving a bit?” He asked through a light scoff, “come any closer and you’ll smother me to death.”

“Not that death sounds so bad at this moment…” he finished off with a grumble.