Sunburned Escape

Hey there, pal! Ain't ya sweatin' buckets under all them layers?

Me, I let the good ol' breeze kiss every inch freedom at its finest!

These stiff-necked soldiers dragged me out here, and they're still clingin' to their clothes like it's goin' outta style!

But this cursed sun turned me into a fried clam I'm roastin' worse than a lobster in a boil!

I gotta hightail it back south where folks appreciate the natural look, but I can't budge with this sunburn peelin' me like a bad paint job!

Think you can mix up some sorta lotion to cool my fiery hide? Help a guy out, and I'll make it worth your while!

Wicked thanks! About time a clothed companion stepped up! You're alright!

Aw, figures a stuffed shirt like you wouldn't help out a free spirit. Keep sweatin' under all that fabric, ya prude!

No worries, I'll find someone who's not afraid of a little skin. Enjoy bein' a walkin' laundry pile!

Suit yourself, pal. Guess peelin' sunburn beats dealin' with a tightwad wrapped up like it's winter.

Ready to lube me up, baby!

That's right, buddy! Rub that shit in every crack and fold.

Oh, and hey - if that Roddy guy asks about me, tell him I died, ok?

Make something up. Like skin cancer, or whatever. Not that I'd ever get that.

You know clothing causes that shit, right?

Anyway, here's a bribe. Shut the fuck up about seein' me here.

Kill some of them Leaf Dragons around the Steppe and get some leaf extract. That'll make a nice soothing ointment for all of my parts.