You wake in the morning to find Gwen still fast asleep, lying at an extremely uncomfortable looking angle with limbs strewn wildly in each direction. Her chest rises and falls quite evenly, citrine breasts quivering softly as they move. You rise from the bed, contemplating waking the peachy puazi, but deciding against it. She needs her rest. You grab your suit of gray goo armor and head back to the city proper.
