"That's bad practice hun," Samson said, voice just above the sick skin-pops of his hand returning to normal. The skin shone, unmarred and new, as he moved his fingers to test the ligaments and joints.

But he wasn't going to test his luck. It was good. She didn't know. He wasn't going to let her know. The memory of gargled screaming echoing in his head solidified that conviction.

He turned his head at the sound of a new voice, casting up a lazy grin. "Well hello!" he said, shifting his bag. "I suppose I'll take the bed thing up now then. Find a hole to settle into..."

"Anyone wanna give me the grand tour?"

((This was garbage and short but I'm kinda distracted with urgent family matter right now so please forgive it.))