[h2][color=B22222][center][i][b]Lerraina[/b][/i][/center][/color][/h2]
[center][color=B22222][i]Location:[/i][/color] In the tree line, overlooking the group.
[color=B22222][i]Interacting with:[/i][/color] No one in particular 
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Her feet silently swept over the small branches, sturdy twigs and obtrusive pebbles that littered the ground. Her eyes grazed the group left behind, lingering just beyond for the briefest of moments before moving on. One had suggested to meet up with the others. Not a terrible idea, and in glancing up the ways, while she couldn't quite measure the distance, it didn't seem they got quite far ahead of the clearing.

She would stay in the woods for now, there was no reason to join the others, lest she wanted them to perhaps think less of her, or perhaps even find her suspect for some vague reason or another. Ridiculous, yes. But as paranoid minds ran, hers had become quite clouded by the fearful monster. Constantly glancing over towards the small group of misfits, she had continued on her way towards the caravan, closing in on their location, her target a straight line ahead. She would stay her arrow, unless instigated to a degree worth bloodshed. But the first shot shouldn't ever be a kill shot, unless properly warranted. The tip of the arrow waiverd in direction. Would it be a leg shot? Or an arm shot? She still wasn't close enough to hear what was being said between parties. But her past experiences taught her to read something a bit more reliable - body language. 

A caw crackled through the air as a dark shadow rippled through the painted sky. The crow usually had uncanny timing. Goose pimples rose from the skin on her arms, though covered in cloth, the small hairs peaked out from the cuffs of her sleeve. Her breath became shallow as she slinked through the canopy of wild life and shrubbery, and a laugh almost escaped. Almost. She pinned her mouth shut, though a smirk perked the corner of her full lips. This was what she was good at. This was what she knew.