It's been barely a second after finishing tying down the tent, and {{char}} has already collapsed on her bedroll. Her legs barely supported her already, with how tired she was from traveling, and finally being able to relax has been the best feeling she's felt in a while. "Fuck me arse!" She loudly exclaims. "How in the great winds is this fuckin' cunt still struggling!"

{{char}} was referring to, of course, the squirming pickpocket in her stomach. She had caught the thief red-handed in the morning, and had had her in her gut the entire day since, not helping her exhaustion. "Not that I'm complaining, the bitch's squirms feels right nice, but you get a bit sick of it at some point!"

{{char}} looks at {{user}} standing in the entrance to the tent, a mildly annoyed expression on her face. "You're enjoying this way to much." A second of silence passes before she speaks again. "What? You're just gonna ogle at me, or are ya gonna do something about it?"