[u][center][h3]Marianne Delacroix[/h3][/center][/u] [center][img]http://i.imgur.com/Jr0Uu63.png?1[/img][/center] It wasn't until Sir Garrett laid his hand on her shoulder to shake her, ignoring her cloak of electricity with his leather-protected gloves, that she started to rouse from her impromptu slumber. Eyelids slowly fluttering open, her vision blurry, Sir Garrett's face gradually came into focus. In any other situation, she'd be extremely uncomfortable with how close he was to her, but with her head still pounding she couldn't be bothered. He was saying something to her, but his words came across muffled and unintelligible as if she were underwater. Wincing from being lightly shaken, she softly groaned and her eyes closed shut again. She was felt absolutely exhausted. More than likely from the combination of mana over exhaustion and head trauma. [i]However...[/i] All of this was immediately ignored and forgotten the moment she felt an intense chill shoot from her neck down her back. Waking instantly as her eyes snapped open and she let out a sharp gasp, Marianne got to her feet and tried as best she could to reach behind her to grab whatever it was that gave her such a fright. Yelping and letting out little anxious cries as she 'danced' and hopped about, even more so after hearing something about a snake from Dame Sult. It wasn't that she was afraid of snakes, she just didn't like being touched by unknown creatures. Especially to have one crawl on her. It wasn't until she finally grabbed the offending piece of ice and held it in her hands to look at it to realize that a slight joke had been played on her. Looking at the partially melted icicle, her mouth hung open as she looked up to Dame Sult and stared at her with an incredulous expression. The blood in her cheeks immediately heated as she turned a bright red, mortified and embarrassed at such unbecoming behavior of herself. She wasn't mad at Dame Sult as she was simply trying to help wake her, and it worked quite effectively, she just wanted to crawl into a hole and hide for a little while. Quickly tossing the icicle aside and smoothing the front of her clothing and skirt, she desperately attempted to regain her composure. Clearing her throat, she strided over to her sword which lay near where she had fallen and returned it to its sheath. She looked at all who had seen her little display and politely bowed her head to each of them. [b]"Th-...thank you all for...waking me. N-now if you'll excuse me, I must...uphold Delacroix traditions..."[/b] Straightening herself up a little more, she cleared her throat once again. Remaining silent about the little show that she just gave. Her cheeks still burning an intense red, she turned her back to the group and walked toward the center of the camp where the dead were being gathered and captive bandits. She couldn't walk away fast enough.