[Wolfwood watches as Ain saunters out of the wagon, deep claw marks and all, pulling aside the canvas so he can head outside and probably find Angelina flopped entirely on her side sleeping like she's fucking dead. (She isn't, by the way, she just does this). Meanwhile, he ends up lagging behind a bit, still holding onto his clothes as he rubs his face a few times, staring at the wagon floor. The sleeping bags are kindof strewn about, there's...a mess, here and there, and he can still feel parts of him all sticky from it because Ain can't be expected to get everything until they wash off in the nearby river. That's...not a bad idea, come to think of it.
...
Don't look now, Ain, but there's the sound of an awful din at the back of the wagon, followed by a chorus of angry cursing. Turns out, Wolfwood forgot his legs don't work, and tried to get out of the wagon- butt-ass naked, by the way- so he could go wash in the river.
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Don't look now, Ain, but there's the sound of an awful din at the back of the wagon, followed by a chorus of angry cursing. Turns out, Wolfwood forgot his legs don't work, and tried to get out of the wagon- butt-ass naked, by the way- so he could go wash in the river.
Turns out! Legs don't work after sex like that.]