I was careful not to wake anyone as I opened the flap— “You smell like debauchery.” I jumped so high that I had to bite back a curse, whipping around to see Sammerin seated cross-legged beside the path, in front of his shelter. With his dark clothing and his typical quiet demeanor, he practically melted into the dusk. “Shit, Sammerin, don’t do that to me.” I stepped toward him, examining his face while trying not to let him know I was doing it. “Don’t you have more productive things to do? Like sleep, for example. Perhaps that would be a better use of your time.”
DEBAUCHERY LMAO
