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“Hey,” Thief announces as he pulls back the flap of the tent, “we’re getting ready to lea— what are you two doing?”
“Hi Thief!” Fighter waves from his spot on the floor.
“Hi Fighter,” Thief responds calmly, almost amiably, before turning his attention to Black Mage.
“Get the hell out of here!” Black Mage answers, removing his hands from Fighter’s neck and swatting the air as though Thief was a troublesome fly (not a bad comparison, he thinks.) He doesn’t get up from sitting on top of him, though.
“Wow okay I didn’t think I was interrupting something.”
“You’re not interrupting anything! I was just—“
“Just?” Thief raises his eyebrows.
Black Mage says nothing. Fighter, ever the helper, chimes in for his clearly tongue tied buddy: “He’s just choking me.”
Thief stares dumbfounded between the two of them while Black Mage climbs to his feet.
“And you… let him do that?”
“Yeah! That’s what friends do!”
More silence. Black Mage brushes himself off and crosses his arms, not making eye contact. Fighter sits up and smiles.
“Cool cool that’s way more than I ever wanted to know about either of you—“ (anything beyond their bank account numbers was way more than he wanted to know about them, for the record) “— so I’m going to pretend this conversation never happened and I don’t want you to ever talk to me about it again or I’ll have to have you both killed. Now get your stuff together, you freaks, we’re leaving in ten.”