"It's rash behavior," someone whispered a reminder softly.
"I know what that means, I was testing you guys!" Sixth Hoffman glared at him, "Alright, meeting adjourned. Everyone go back to sleep. We'll follow the plan later."
The group dispersed, each returning to their spots to lie down.
The wind howled, once again kicking up the yellow sand.
Hannah turned over and nestled into Arnold Simmons's embrace.
Even asleep, she couldn't keep still, her hands instinctively sliding into Arnold's coat to cling tightly to his waist.
Because it was a familiar scent, Arnold didn't wake up but just hugged her a little tighter.
...
In the middle of the night,
Gregory Lawrence got up to relieve himself, his mind still foggy, and kicked the person sleeping beside him.
"Bro, sorry about that," he mumbled, burping.
He was repulsed by the smell of alcohol on his breath.
