Isolde Palewood

Isolde sat by the caravan, sitting on a strong tree branch. She was munching on an apple. Her legs were kicking about, swinging to and fro like a child on a swingset. She had her usual bored and cold look on that face of hers, yet still beautiful in her own way. Her appearance was not as polished as she would like it to be, as she was out in the woods 'roughing it' as they called it. It drove her absolutely mad that her hair was messy and her face was not as clean as usual. She was currently standing guard duty near the caravan to watch out for any thieves. [i]Thieves?[/i] she thought, her face scrunching up into something reminiscent of laughter. [i]Like any petty thief would dare to attack the Empirical Military![/i]