Tinder lays on her back on a near by bench, a paper bag covered bottle resting on her chest. She had finally been getting some sleep until some people gathered in the park and started talking like this, which isn't helping her splitting headache from her little night out last night. She groans slightly and grabs the bottle off her chest and tosses it in the garbage can next to the bench, it seems like she's done this more then once. She slowly rolls and opens one eye to look at the people talking near her, spotting the fact that one of them is lacking pants. She kind of remembers something about picking up pants last night, she looks down as she feels the soft thing under her head and realizes that she had used pants as a pillow. Taking a second before slowly moves to stand, fixing her old ratty tee-short and shorts before slowly making her way over to that group, holding her head in pain. She tosses the pants at Fox, "I think those are yours."