By the time Viper finally lowered his hands from his face, Ren was already decent.
Well, as decent as one could be while being wet and wearing a shapeless sack of wool that smelled like a damp sheep. She was wringing the water from her hair, twisting the red locks until they stopped dripping down her back.
Viper blinked, his vertical pupils adjusting to the light. He stared resolutely at a tree trunk to her left, refusing to make eye contact. He looked like he was trying to solve a complex riddle on the bark just to avoid glancing in her general direction.
Ren frowned. 'He is so strange,' she thought. 'I have seen more naked butt cheeks in this world than I have seen trees. Most of the men here wear loincloths the size of a tea bag. Why is he acting like a Victorian schoolmarm? Is Syris really that scary?'
She dismissed the thought instantly. She had more important things to worry about.
