Dallas was having a fucking fantastic time. It felt so...liberating, to be out of LA. Out of the entire country. She was somewhere else, surrounded by friendly women, with a cold drink in her hand and without a care in the world. Or, well, a care that she had to think about. Which had been the whole point of this vacation, to get away from awhile. She was determined not to think of anything that might be stressful or uncomfortable while she was here. All she was going to care about was how much sun she was getting, and where her next drink was coming from. So far, her plan was working incredibly well.
Enjoying the potential to be as lazy as she wanted, she'd stretched out on the deck of the boat, her cowboy hat (and didn't she feel left out, without a silly Robin Hood hat) covering most of her face and sunglasses keeping out the rest of the light. For the most part, she hadn't changed out of the whole bikini and barely-there shorts look that was so comfortable when you spent all day out in the sun and water. She could practically feel herself absorbing rays, and even though she might not exactly need a tan, she wasn't above lying around and pretending to.
Of course, no amount of lazy could destroy the urge for a cigarette. She'd heard that smoking killed a thousand times before, but the moment she sat up and got to her feet, she discovered that they had the potential to kill in an exciting new way. An arrow flew right by her face, thunking in to the masterpiece of art that they'd all helped create earlier. Once her heart started beating again, she flipped Betty the bird. "Jesus fuckin' Christ, woman. Are you tryin' to kill me?"