Lucrica gripped her wand, wiping raindrops from her forehead as if it were her own sweat. Her brown hair glued itself to her neck as she allowed the rain to pound her petite body. She watched her group spread the area while she remained concealed by the bushes. Small. Invisible. Observant. Just as she liked it. She looked over at the scenery. The structure of the rock that were probably in a formation that assisted their potion. She watched her group in turn. Finally, her eyes rested upon a young girl. How old was she? Young, definitely. Probably younger than yours truly.

She watched the wizards around her, the evil witches and wizards mainly distracted. She pulled the hood of her robe (she had handmade and sewed it weeks prior) over her head and swiftly and carefully ran across the battlefield, attempting to remain unseen. She gripped her wand tighter but, somehow, managed to get rather far without being noticed. As she approached Iz and the young woman, however, her cover di not last. She muttered "Lacurnum Inflamarae," under her breath and a small fireball flew out of her wand, hitting one her attackers. It didn't do much damage more than push him to the ground but it did temporarily frazzle the wizard. Lucrica ran behind Iz, muttering an apology in his ear on her way past, and stopped at the young girl.

"Don't worry, you're safe now," she mutters in her Irish-tinted accented, inspecting the girl for major injuries and wounds.