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"Amateurs," Lush thought as she saw Saucy stagger to greet a few lovelies, the naughty Bęthberry and a dish named Guinevere among them. He clearly had the hangover of a lifetime. Lush beamed proudly. Might as well show off her drinking skills, if nothing else. Well, perhaps her legs too. And academic skills...
Nah, the legs and the drinkage will do.
Pio's advise about the beer did come in handy last night.
Lush stretched like a cat in the sun. A light, golden tan was appearing on her skin. She was beginning to look more and more like a sorority girl. All she needed was a slightly more expensive handbag, uglier shoes, and a lout in tow.
In the absence of any louts nearby, Lush made her way over to bawdy Bęthberry to invite her to smoke a hookah she had recently discovered in one of the tents (Lush's tastes, as of late, had been decidedly Middlea Eastern in nature; must have been the Easterlings looking so Arab in that Peter Jackson movie), or say hello, at least.
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