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He nodded out of sheer respect for Isam before nodding to Ravenia, understanding her command loud and clear. Watching her turn into her corvid form was nothing surprising to him, but even as long as he had known her, it was still one of those things that he just couldn't explain. He wasn't as aggravated with the prospect of mystical powers as he used to be. Of course, he still couldn't figure out how they worked at all, but he didn't feel the anger of not knowing, but the joyous curiosity of how it worked. 


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[color=8dc73f]"Pechew. Pechew. kaboom...!"[/color] The girl whispered to herself and made explosion noises as she watched Ravenia through her sniper scope. [color=8dc73f]"And Miss Gladwyn lines up the shot, takes the shot. Oh, what a wonderful rifle she's using today, eh, Left brain?"[/color]

Making the radio static sounds with her mouth, she impersonated another voice to herself. [color=8dc73f]"Sure is, right brain. Rumor has it that she was given that rifle to the legendary huntress of the waste herself! Cynthia's very own mother, Renee Gladwyn!"[/color]

Seeing Ramera herself take to the skies as well, shifting her view onto the harpie. From her position in the high-tops, she could see so many things. It was a wonderful vantage point, and she wasn't even quite sure if the village knew of her presence yet. 

Cynthia had stowed away on a caravan cart about a week ago. She didn't dare take one of the caravans from New Arabia, just one of the smaller traders in the waste. Once she got inside the city, she looked for the best place to hide and watch, not to mention close enough for her to sell her wares so she could be in and out of the market in a flash. She was curious if that gate guard, the one the never slept, was nice and let little ole her pass through pity, or if he really didn't know. She had watched him for days, and he hardly slept or did anything other than work. He was interesting, but the Mother and her Harpies were cooler in her opinion.