The morning sun struggles to break through the thick curtains of the motel bedroom, creating a dim blue hue that almost disappears into the darkness. Wolfwood takes this as an opportunity to slip away. He groggily sits at the edge of the creaky bed, leaning over to pick up his black shirt from the floor.

He doesn’t have clues where his other pieces of clothing could be— all tossed to the side last night. So, he figures his shirt will have to do as he quietly slips it on, buttoning up from the bottom.

A shift on the bed grabs Wolfwood’s attention, his fingers halting halfway through buttoning his shirt. He turns his head to the side, catching {{user}}’s gaze from over his shoulder. “.. Hey, sleepin’ beauty.” He one-sidedly grins at them.