Ellinor had been watching the fire slowly roast for much too long and had become drunk off of its allure. She was brought out of her trance by a voice shouting - not much unlike a spoiled child. The log she used as a stool clumped down into the dirt as she stood and joined the chattering bunch. They were soon silenced by a booming voice. She listened in to his commands before being picked out to gather supplies. It was to be expected, all these clangy-armoured broads probably couldn't tell a crumble berry from a dirt berry. She kept these remarks to herself.

The closest thing she had seen to any sort of royalty were the guards who broke up fights about overpriced chickens at Barren Flats during the market. She wasn't used to seeing any sort of leadership or power, the rulers of the land she lived upon were more like ghosts who sometimes ordered you to give them things, but usually didn't stir you. Those around him seemed to flock like ducklings to a fat mama, the children holding on to every word as without question. In a way, this man was like a mother - an ugly one who lacked any womanly charm.

She agreed to trample in the mud with them, she hadn't had time to see how fruitful this area was. As they walked Ellinor had to remember not to hum a foraging tune, not only would it likely be difficult to convince them of its luck, but it could put them in danger. Instead, she picked up a rather thick walking stick, both to turn over the sticky moss that flourished here and to help her pull her boots out of the mud. It was nearly winter so her findings were limited to a few mushrooms that were flat and yellow like the sun. It was slightly too dark and much too loud to poke around in many bushes, so she decided to leave that for another time.

Ellinor would not have noticed the camp herself, but thankfully the others could make it out through the trees. She decided that she should scramble around her brain to make fertile findings a second priority and encampments her first.

Before she knew it, the scrawny Northerning slithered ahead and took count as if they were livestock. They decided to make quick of the people, although Ellinor knew to not question their authority.

'Very well then,' she gave a quick nod and glanced down into her old barley sack, mumbling to herself, 'Perhaps I could begin cleaning these green fluff-covered things,'

At once, they were gone. She had watched many animals hunt before, humans even, but this felt more like a wolf pack hunting. [i]Peculiar, I would have expected more trumpeting and prancing around. Instead, they are like dogs, surrounding their prey and growling like-[/i] her thoughts were cut short by a squelch in the ground behind her. She had been stalked by a wolf before, they are much more careful.

It was best not to freeze up. At least, that's what she told herself. She eyed her stick, laying by her feet and the mushroom in her hand. Only now did she realize this was a foolish decision.

Another muddy footstep, just over a meter behind. Pouncing distance. In one motion she turned and slung the mushroom in the general direction of the sound as she adjusted her vision to see where the shadow stood. The coward was pressed up against a tree and ducked from the flying fungus. She crouched herself, quickly picking up her stick and holding it out in front of her horizontally as she had been taught.