Heather wandered around aimlessly looking for the tactician, constantly distracted by cats, pretty flowers, or the occasional jeweler. She wasn't really sure where he would be, but she had to run into him eventually, right? ....Right. Boy did her feet hurt though. Maybe she should have brought traveling boots....or a horse. As she passed by, people often stared. It seemed most people wore common clothes and her dress certainly wasn't common. Perhaps she should've packed more clothes, too.

She sighed and took a seat on a rock to give herself a rest. She shut her eyes and rested her elbows on her knees, and her chin on her hands, and pouting, "I'll never find him! I feel like I've looked everywhere...." she said. After a moment she opened her eyes to see a caravan a ways ahead of her. "Wait...that's....is that him?!" she said, excitedly. Heather picked up her staff, and held her dress in one hand as she scurried over quickly.

As she got closer and closer to the caravan, and to Matthew, she realized she was getting a little shy. What if he didn't want her? Her help! That is.... Heather approaced as stealhily as her swishing dress would allow, and slipped up into the seat next to him. Heather was now a little tongue-tied. She turned her head to him, her cheeks slightly rosy. "U-Uhm, hi. I-I've come to help you! If you'll have me that is....I-In your group I mean. Not um....anyway, my name's Heather!" she said awkwardly, with a matchingly awkward, delicate wave.