Lyra was at the edge of the group, just trudging along, staying relatively silent as she headed towards the young boy.

Of course, she could go at a much faster pace than what she had already, but between the slow, repetitive plodding and the nice, cozy sunshine, it was a struggle to stay awake even at a runner's pace.  That, and it'd startle the poor boy.

So she plodded along, before deciding to sit on top of a relatively large boulder.  It was about a good 10 yards away from the boy, but also a good 100 yards away from where the rest were setting up.

"Child!  Are you in need of assistance?" she called as she cupped her hand over her brows, so as to make a visor over her brows.  With her left hand, she began to unbutton the first few buttons at the top and bottom of her shirt, so as to let her rather sweaty body cool off.  He was but a lad, and modesty was certainly becoming less and less of an issue if everyone was to go into training soon enough.

She'd certainly have to re-learn how to wield a greatsword again.  A simple five years can undo too many decades, so it would seem.