>>5810138After taking advantage of your building’s bathroom—an exercise in sneaking Zith-Zi past your landlady Ms. Bewley there and back—she at least smelled notably better. Rather, failed to produce the musky odour she had been radiating earlier. To your surprise, the goblin-girl also did not make a battle of the bedding arrangements, either, but simply produced a thin and well-worn bedroll from her pack and laid it out upon the floor without complaint.
“What?” she demanded, catching you staring.
“I just figured you were going to make me fight you for every little thing,” you admitted frankly.
She laughed, and give you a more genuine smile, nodding to your raised bed.
“Too ritzy for my blood, rich boy,” she said. “I normally sleep in a tent, remember?”
“The only tent in your camp,” you retorted. “I figured you enjoyed fancier things?”
She shrugged noncommittally, starting to say something before thinking better of it.
“Look, it’s been a long day. And the sun’s setting—isn’t it beddy-bye time for elfy-welfies?”
You glared at her, but she was already facing the other way, sleeping back pulled up to her chin. She slept with one arm free from the bag, though, and with her hand lying upon the hilt of her scimitar—still within reach, even in the heart of the world’s safest metropolis. You frowned, but said nothing of it, and went to sleep as well.
