His sword and his money

Without much more hesitation, Kyrie got to work. "Okay, that sword should get me a pretty penny," she said to no one in particular. She knelt down, got a good grip, and began to lift.

What Kyrie failed to realize was that this was the Buster Sword, and therefore, couldn't even get it an inch off the ground. She strained and pulled with all her might. "Come on..." she squeaked out through attempts to lift the gargantuan weapon.

Eventually, she gave up. "Jeez, how does someone that skinny lift this?!" she retorted. "It must weigh, like, a million pounds!"

Frustrated, she sat down for a few moments. After catching her breath, she stood back up and looked at the **** man again. "You've gotta have at least a bit of gil on you," Kyrie observed. She knelt down again, and this time, started rummaging through the man's pockets.

After searching his entire person, she counted all the gil she had accumulated. "Only 300 gil?!" she snapped in further disdain. "That would barely pay for a single train ride!"

She sighed, disappointed in the hopelessness of her situation. What was she going to do now?

As she briefly pouted, she looked at the man again. Kneeling down and snapping her fingers in his face, he was still out cold. "Hmm..." she hummed, a truly dastardly idea coming to mind.

"Well, I'm in a tight squeeze, and need money now," she reasoned to herself. "He's not going anywhere anytime soon, so... I'm sure he wouldn't mind, would he?"

And with that, she scooted down to his feet and started untying his boots...