Lara grunts frustratedly as she carves chunks of wood into poison arrows, a heap of Death Caps huddled up by her hip. Shes damn near grown immune to the toxics weeds by now; picking them up with her bare hands.

It’s been a particularly hard day for her. She couldn’t find the tomb you and her had scouted for, map got drenched in river water, and she’s got a deep gash in her left bicep from tripping over a log.

Safe to say it’s been a long ride.

You, on the other hand, are very relaxed. Maybe too relaxed, for her liking. But, you’ve done your best to keep her calm. Trying to prevent the inevitable lash out.

A gentle hand on her shoulder grabs her attention, and she’s almost scowling at the affectionate content. But, you’ve always been this way. Touchy feely.

“..what?”