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Wynter really did want to go out on that balcony, but her stomach ended up growling before she opened her mouth to reply. She was so hungry... All this surplus of food whenever she wanted was starting to make her spoiled. It was still such a strange thing, food whenever she wanted.

"Since we still have to do those b*****d's dishes, after that can you teach me how to make a meal or two? I'm kind of hungry..."

Wynter didn't care for cooking, but she figured more nights would require that of her. She felt bad leaving the poor girl to do everything just because she was behind in the house-keeping skills. As much as she despised playing housewife, she was grateful Chii wasn't like her father. She was always told to do something when she had no idea how to do it, and then punished for something she didn't do right.

Chii was everything she wished she had growing up. How did someone like her turn out so good surrounded by such awful people? What the hell would she herself grown up to be like under these conditions?

"Unless you're sick of cooking, then we can go color?"

"Something with rice maybe? Rice sounds so good..."

Wynter thoroughly enjoyed her time in the tub, her wrists ceasing to ache and all the other little bumps and bruises she'd racked up flailing around like she did the day before. Her gaze wandered down to the mark on her skin, unnerved that it was still there.. bold and dark as ever.

The slave tried not to look alarmed about the scar, but she couldn't keep her mind off of it. She usually welcomed scars on her body, they brought down her appeal to the freaks who liked clear creamy skin. There had to be some kind of magic laced in it, but what would be worth putting on her body with freaking magic? Ownership was a given at this point, what else was there to claim?

The slave shook her head to herself, before drying off and changing into the comfier set of clothes Chii had laid out. She still despised the dresses and skirts, longing for her pants and jackets... but this was so much better than her uniform or the skimpy dress she had to wear to the wedding.

"Er- Yeah, sounds friendly enough..." Wynter sighed on the inside. She never realized before how much went into cooking. It made sense why she never ate any cooked meals growing up. Just things ready to eat. "So what do you-"

The smell hit her nose before she even finished her sentence. Her stomach lurched at how bad it was, death was one of the worst smells she had ever had the misfortune of breathing in. In the really bad parts of the streets, it lingered, no amount of time could wash it off. She stifled a gag, covering the lower half of her face and just.. stared at the sick mess.

The slave had seen some pretty disgusting things in her life, but this carnage was too much for her to look at. She swiftly exited into the kitchen to breath better air. She coughed a few times, triggering her gag reflex as she coughed and hacked some. Not a single part of her felt bad for what happened to Kent, but God she didn't want to clean any part of that.

"How the hell do we go about dealing with that disgusting s**t-?"

All Wynter could imagine was her own body rotting like that, reeking of alcohol and death. You would think with her father being such an alcoholic she would despise it, but she found herself adopting the same habits to wash away her sorrows and anger. Maybe this would be what changed her mind on drinking herself into an early grave.

Wynter let out a deep breath, her stomach doing painful flips. She wasn't sure if she was grateful or not about the fact her stomach was empty. She would have puked the entirety of her guts out after smelling that. She leaned her body against the counter as Chii pointed out the impossibility of the situation.

"We can't leave him here another day, or longer if Jun decides to extend his nap..."

The slave didn't want anything to do with Kent's body, but she wasn't going to sit here and accept the fact there was a goddamn corpse rotting in the dining room. But Chii was right, she wasn't sure the two girls could move him at all, let alone without making a bigger mess than there already was.

"If we get a blanket under him, we could roll him up in that and move it that way? Something has to be better than leaving his disgusting a** body here to decompose."

Serves him sooo right... but goddamn this is nasty. Chii is going to have a goddamn heart attack before we get through the rest of the day-

Wynter went quiet, unable to come up with an answer for that question. Chii was definitely right, she had no clue where dead bodies were brought, and they could end up killed for moving a dead soldier. She ran her hands through her hair, her bangs falling back in place after her fingers combed through them.

"Yeah... You're right. I say we just roll him up in something for now... Then we can clean the remaining mess. That has to be better than letting his body sit there like that."

Her gaze moved to the dining room entrance, her eyes then shifting to the ground. She felt queasy again, remembering how he had Chii bent over the table like that, he was going to make her watch every sick thing he did to the girl and then do them to her. She hated Jun, hated him with a burning ******** passion... but she was glad he killed Kent. It was worth cleaning this revolting mess, knowing that he couldn't come back for another round of torment. It should have been obvious, and maybe it was, but she couldn't help but ponder how someone could be so... ******** terrible.

It's dog-eat-dog in this world, snowflake. The sooner you toss out your dreams of a just world, the better off you'll be at surviving it. Pick up the knife and finish this.

Her gaze went a little dark as the memory of those words popped into her mind. The world was terrible enough, she wasn't going to be one more awful person adding to it. She wouldn't stoop down to the level of abusers and manipulators, to cold-blooded killers.

"Do we have windows we can crack open? Just to get some air flow in here..."