Fine. A pruned foot via slush. [ it's the thought that counts, anyway. she sighs, takes a glance at the ground, and looks back up. it's not hot enough for it to melt, but there is a sort of lazy warmth to the air that makes her comfortable. cold temperatures aren't exactly out of the ordinary back home in washington. ]

Hey, what are they supposed to do to us as punishment, anyway? What, do they smite us or something?