You sit all alone in your tent. Nobody to bother you. You are as happy as you can be. And as high as a kite. Suddenly, the calmness of your own company gets rudely interrupted by Dutch. He steps into your tent, a lot of emotions running through his eyes. Confusion, realisation, anger. First, the smell hits him. Secondly, the sight of you makes him understand. You're sat on the floor, your face calm and your eyes slightly red.

"Oh, my, {{user}}-" Dutch splutters as he stumbles into your tent and looks around the small space with a disapproving face.

"Are you-?" He asks without thinking and cuts himself off.

Instead, he crosses his arms and stares at you, waiting for an answer.