[i]Late.[/i]

Acacia sure knew how to make a good first impression.

“I’m sorry!” she called when she finally made it back to the courtyard and saw that she was the last to arrive, issuing another breathless apology as she skidded to a halt at the edge of the group. Her cheeks and neck were flushed, partly from the breakneck pace she had managed to maintain for almost the entire trip from the medical ward, and partly -- mostly -- from the waves of embarrassment that washed over her with increasing force as she tried to catch her breath.

“I, uh,” she began, praying it wouldn’t sound like an excuse, “I had to get some stuff from the med ward.” As she spoke, Acacia tugged self-consciously at her left sleeve; her arm and shoulder were already half-covered in a spectacular reddish-blue bruise, although icing it had helped to keep the swelling down some. At least she matched her team now.

In truth, she had spent a ridiculous amount of time checking, and re-checking, her pack once her arm had been tended to. She wanted to be sure she had [i]everything[/i] she might need on this mission, because if she wasn’t properly prepared, her team would suffer. But she didn’t want to bring too [i]much,[/i] or she might get weighed down and lag behind.. This cycle of indecision led her to unpack her supplies multiple times, only to throw everything back in after a few minutes of scrutiny -- lather, rinse, repeat. Anxiety was a pretty foreign emotion to Acacia, who always seemed to carry an extra helping of optimism in her back pocket, so she found herself ill equipped to do much else but succumb to her newfound neurosis until it subsided on its own. This was a new, exciting, terrifying step in her life, and the absolute last thing she wanted to do was falter when others were counting on her.

She realized, too late, that by wasting so much time worrying about nothing -- in the end, not a single item was added or removed from her kit -- she might have come very close to doing exactly what she was afraid of. She would have to work on some coping skills. Meditation, maybe. For now, she just hoped she hadn't done any permanent damage to her still-developing reputation.