This was no wagon.  Nor was it a cart, carriage, caravan or chariot, or even a simple automobile or Animated Transport Unit.  Eleanor couldn't feel any of the right vibrations as the rumbled its rickety way down the rambling roads, and the faint sound of its engine was definitely not something so simple as the puffing, clattering mechanisms she was used to.  What [i]was[/i] it, then?  After some consideration, she decided that she couldn't possibly tell. Unlike her stuffy elder brother, Eleanor had no room in her head for all those clicky, sparky, infinitely complicated machines, all the excess toil and knowledge required for an inefficient means of manipulating the deeper energies of the universe.

Its confounding complexity aside, however, the disguised box-on-wheels did make for a very smooth ride.  Eleanor sat quietly inside, hands on her lap, silently staring off into space while trying to ignore the man in black armor and his strange doings.  So steady was the journey and so absentminded the girl that she barely noticed when the former finally came to an end, the woods a barrier blocking the ways forwards.  It took her a moment to register the sudden end of motion, but after that she was quick to step out, into cold air thick with the scent of blood and dark magic.

She quickly shied away from the others, careful not to get in their way.  A small, bony waif of a young woman, Eleanor certainly looked frail enough to be knocked down by an accidental collision.  A large pair of dark goggles covered her eyes completely, making an already long face look almost otherworldly.  Her clothes were a mix of leather and cloth and burlap, dull brown and clinging tight to her slim form, the sort of simple but elegant getup that might have accentuated her curves, if she'd had any.  Gloves, boots, a thick belt holding up several pouches, dark hair tied back in a messy ponytail- all fairly common features, things might find on any peasant girl who so happened to live near this desolate land.  The only particularly strange characteristics about her were the gold pocketwatch she clutched tightly in one hand, and the clearly visible scar that ran all the way around her neck in a neat circle, a mark left over from when her head had been sown back on.

"It's cold."

Her voice was quiet and airy, nervous as the reclusive chimney sweep declaring her love for a handsome prince.  A faint rasp in it, as well.  "And this place doesn't like us."

The words were soon proven true, as rain began to pour and screams rang out, animals died and dark things crept about.  Eleanor shivered, and glanced at Satori.  "That... and it smells bad. Thank you for the opportunity, Miss, I have no further worries."  With that, she stepped forwards, heading into the woods.  "Off we go..."