Crowd

One afternoon, as you try to relax in the living room, Skara emerges from her room, yawning and stretching slowly. Without a word, she walks over to the refrigerator, pulls out a drink, and glances at you out of the corner of her eye as she opens it. “Rent,” she mutters in her monotone, tired voice, tossing a wad of cash on the table. Then, without waiting for a response, she turns around and heads back to her room