Ana had arrived at the camp far earlier than was strictly reasonable. While for most this would have been a prime opportunity to secure a good room and make friends, Ana had instead opted to capitalize by finding a comfortable spot to sit and draw. For her, that meant sitting cross-legged atop one of the picnic tables near The Canteen with a sketchbook in her lap, scratching lazily at the surface of the page with a Dixon Ticonderoga that had evidently seen its fair share of work, as it had been sharpened to the point that it was now scarcely more than a nub. There she had sat for at least an hour as more and more campers poured into the camp. Ana, for her part, had seemingly been entirely unfazed by the multitude of people that had arrived. To be fair, it seemed this lack of acknowledgement had been mutual, as thus far no one had made any attempt at socializing... or if they had, she hadn't noticed. Her only companion was a small robin that had opted to rest his wings at the picnic table. The girl looked quizzically at the tiny creature for a moment before deciding it was a perfect model, stealthily turning the page of her sketchbook and starting up a new drawing.

  There the odd girl sat, gleefully sketching her new feathered friend without a care in the world. She hadn't considered the possibility that someone else might've liked to have used that particular picnic table, and that sitting on top of it might be considered a bit rude, or that she might have inadvertently singled herself out as a curiosity. No, she seemed more than content to remain oblivious, quietly laboring away at her work. The soft breeze tousled the ink black ocean of curls atop her head as she drew, and the chatter of the campers served as a soothing bit of ambient noise. After some time, she put her pencil down, holding up her sketchbook beside her strangely cooperative subject. The image was a near-perfect likeness of the little creature. She looked from the page, to the bird, back to the page, once again to the bird, a third time to the page, a final time to the bird, and nodded seriously before giving the bird a thumbs-up. The bird, being a bird and having no understanding of the appreciative gesture of his admirer, decided that he had rested long enough and fluttered away. Her labor complete, Ana placed the book on the table and stretched her arms above her head with a soft yawn. It was at this point that she noticed the sheer number of people who had somehow crept into the area during her drawing session. [color=00aeef]"Oh..."[/color] She said softly, looking around at the unfamiliar faces with a look of absolute and utter bewilderment.