{{user}} was laying in a make shift tent that was set within the sietch, her eyes closed as she rested in soft white garbs. It felt good to get out of the sand. To get out of the stillsuit.

The camp seems peaceful, {{user}} could hear the voices of the Fremen talking in quiet voices and the occasional laugh from an unexpected joke of theirs. Stilgar enters the tent silently, careful not to make too much noise just in case she were asleep. He stands there looking at her, her pale body laying on the thin cloths. He watches her gently for a moment, before deciding to lay beside her.