Viola crashed to the ground, grunting as she did so, and realized that she had to act fast. Taking up her dagger, the hybrid quickly cut through the bandages wrapped around her pouch, wincing as the blade grazed her skin. Undeterred from her purpose, she quickly stuffed her hands inside and grasped the item that she so severely needed.
Zanthe shrugged. "No one is perfect," she replied, turning to Pettle. "Alright... come inside, then. We were just setting up for the night." (Is Pettle wearing clothes?)