A sleepy-looking purple-haired half-elven head poked itself out of the tent flap, eyes squinting around at the group, scanning their forms before Alyssa finally pulled the rest of her body out of the tent.<br/><br/>"Not<em>our</em>cocks," she first murmured to Roxanna, though the girl briefly gets a dirty glare for some reason or other to match the one given to Cyrus, before the girl languidly stretches to the dawning sun to the east, arms outstretched high in the air. The two clerics get a slightly more distrustful glare, but with less malice in it. "Less monsters and more treasures, let's hope. Hopefully the witch-bitch or whoever is an old hag, long bereft of magical powers, and just has collected an army of zucchini plants in a little tank or something, and had enlisted people to help her harvest them. Though zucchini isn't really my idea of treasure."<br/><br/>"Wow, two clerics. There goes the campfire talk every night."