[hr][hr][center][h2][b][i][color=b8860b]Keystone[/color][/i][/b][/h2][/center]
[b][center][color=b8860b]Location:[/color] Crossed Swords Inn & Tavern, 2F Private Room [/center][/b][b][center][color=b8860b]Interacting With:[/color] Sana, awkwardly still[/center][/b][hr][hr]

	As personally gratifying as it was, laying half-awake curled with his more petite (but no less terrifying) adventuring companion and ...ok, he wasn't one hundred percent sure exactly what she was to him anymore, or even if such a situation warranted the application of a label other than adventuring companion. Using very objective consideration, Keystone [i]did[/i] come to the conclusion that while the nature of their relationship might not warrant specific title, it was highly unlikely he would wake up tangled in the limbs of Satilla, Kyra, or Cyneburg, let alone the more absurd pairings of Thomas or that Dwarf downstairs. That thought gave him pause. 

	But his thoughts digressed. More immediate matters beckoned, snapping his mind back to the situation at hand. <ahem> Let's try again: 

	As personally gratifying as it was, laying half-awake curled with his more petite (but no less terrifying) adventuring companion and ...indeterminately good friend... Sana, the call to rouse and relieve himself was strong. With terrible slowness, Keystone reached back and grabbed hold of the bed frame to his side, beginning to one-arm himself out of the clutch of the solid archer lady. Surreptitiously craning his head back behind him, he could barely see the crude brass of the chamberpot rim, mostly obscured by the bed itself interposed between said object and his field of vision. 

	If he pulled off this miracle of stealth, it would undoubtedly start the day, and all of the potential for Actual Death & Dismemberment (AD&D). But he had an actual moment there with another living soul. One that he didn't have to pay for, either! It skirted into territory that was a little disconcerting; he had already lost people to the Undead. Getting close to someone with his tendencies to meet and greet formerly living creatures meant seriously having to brace himself for the possibility that he would see them die, in horrible and excruciating ways. It had happened before. 

	Before he went through the maybes of caring, closeness, loss, and anger; before he even started this day of horrible possibility, he [i]needed to get to that chamberpot.[/i]