Effie mainly stuck to the middle, avoiding the end or the front. Both were troublesome in that they were exposed on a side; if anything approached from behind or the front, they would be the firsts to go and she would have enough warning to prepare herself. The redhead was never at the edge, for that also left an uncovered surface. Instead, she moved through the core of the overly large group. Whenever she was squished, as the middle was very crowded, she would surreptitiously kick the shin and trip anyone close to her. It allowed her to have a bit of breathing room as those with tender shins peeled away from her, but Effie could still smell the overpowering body odor of her [i]companions[/i] – the word brought a bitter taste in her mouth and she spat onto the shoe of a thug next to her to rid of it.

So far, this little adventure was dull and not worth it. Nothing of importance had happened and there she was, glued to the bodies of insufferable assholes. Her knives were prickly but part of her wanted to continue to sharpen them just to give her something to do. They moved at a slow pace, barely making a dent in the distance and it was with a frustration that she pushed herself to the front, for only a moment.

“[i]You![/i]” She called, her voice like a sword’s point in the air, “How far is this trek of ours?”