Maybe we should camp. (Oh, but... Yasha sighs, and presses a knuckle against her forehead, rubbing between her eyes. They don't really have anything to camp with, do they. Molly just has his pack.
Huh. Now that Yasha thinks about it: she has one too, that she didn't really notice until just now. She's used to having bags with her, after all. It just didn't register.
She swings the pack off of her shoulder. It has her name stitched on the front; she points this out to Molly.)
U HAVE SO MANY GOOD ONES... mollys a little shit, i love him
Huh. Now that Yasha thinks about it: she has one too, that she didn't really notice until just now. She's used to having bags with her, after all. It just didn't register.
She swings the pack off of her shoulder. It has her name stitched on the front; she points this out to Molly.)