Kintla Flatlands sunday matinée

Tatum had become abruptly aware of the other's presence, giving her a slight start. In her one track mindedness she hadn't even bothered to look around her, but even so it wasn't as if she'd have acted any different would she have been aware of her companion previously. She wasn't a timid creature by any stretch of the imagination. The simple and crude truth of it'd been: she was hot and she didn't a rat's ass about anyone's aversion to her intrusion into the water. She was going to cool off and they didn't have to like it but their disapproval wouldn't have made a dent upon her. It was free territory, after all.

Ears perked atop her skull as the voice reached out to her, baritone. Male. Seriously, what was it with the males of this Wilds? Would it kill the Fates to send her a hot female her way once in a while? Even if she was only allowed to appreciate, something she didn't have to touch to do. “I am now,” Tatum was confused by his question, but shrugged it off. “It's hot as balls out.” She informed him with a crooked little grin as she glimpsed at him from over her shoulder, just in case he wasn't already privy to that.