Stepping into the tent, the young Thistle can't help but be distracted by all the luxury goods. A voice in the back of her head starts adding up how much everything is worth. What would be the easiest to carry and sell. Those thoughts fade however as her eyes make out the nude woman.<br/><br/>Thistle’s eyes widen and cheeks flush red. Turing away I say,<strong>“I’m so sorry, I must have the wrong tent, I didn't mean to intrude or anything if this is a bad time”</strong>I ramble on.<br/><br/>At Cain's words she calms down and cautiously looks around for a place to sit where her back is to a wall. Somewhere safe where it would be difficult to sneak up on her. That voice in her head continues to caution her and feed into her paranoia.<br/><br/><strong>“Oh? Um. How much are we talking about?” </strong>