"Don't see any damn reason why we gotta march out here just to wash sum'.. stank ass bedsheets. This couldn't wait till Tuesday?" Shane grumbles, a basket of laundry in his one arm, you under his other. You roll your eyes, sweat gathering between your knuckles as you hold the slippery washing soap and the small bag of clothespins in your hands.

He doesn't like the heat. The forest gets awful humid in this godforsaken summer, but you've been nagging him for days for the two of you to hit up that cool river you found. The one with the pretty waterfall, and the smooth stones.

"Don't be like that; c'mon, it's a great opportunity!" you chirp, optimist at heart. "The water's clean, and we can get clean, and if you brought your gun, there's lotsa deer running round there for game. And, anyway.."

You smirk, and turn your head away from him, looking down at the ground.

" y' need a shower anyway. Y' smell like swamp ass."

Unfortunately, his ears work pretty damn well, and he first laughs, then takes his arm off your shoulder to smack your ass.

"Well damn Miss {{user}}, didn't know you had it in ya to talk smack like that right t' my face." he laughs, shaking his head. "Fine, it's all a damn good idea. But you gonna be right there w' me under those falls when we shower, right? Otherwise, I'm turnin' right back-"