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The hardest part about mercenary life wasn't the combat. It wasn't the constant trudging from one warzone to the other, or the lack of infrastructure and support that went to a formal military unit. No, it was quite clear to Cecilia that the most miserable aspect of her new career was the sheer volume of downtime she was left with. Sitting the on the gentle rise of a hill with her knees pulled in and a healing staff laid beside her, she glared holes into the side of the Captain's tent and had been doing so since the messengers had walked in.

[color=coral]"Come on, finish already so we can get moving."[/color] The dark skinned cleric grumbled, her chin resting against her knees with an air of childish impatience wafting from her. She was a working woman, and she had gotten used to long hours with ample entertainment between patching up gruesome injuries. Sure, Cecilia could appreciate vacation time but it wasn't like she could just train the day away like the other mercenaries here seeing as that necessitated a near constant stream of injured and dying to get any progress in. [color=coral]"And it's not like I can even go into town and start selling my services cause then we'd be fighting healthy people. Gah!"[/color]

Overcome with nervous tension she flopped onto her side and tumbled down the hill, the lingering grass stains in her pilfered maid uniform speaking well to the repetition of this course in just this day alone. Coming to a stop with her cheek in the grass she didn't bother to rouse herself from the ground, content to wallow in her lethargy, till at last a miracle happened.

The messengers departed, riding off on their horses without a second glance sent their way. [color=coral]"YEEEEEES!"[/color] 

With the speed of a mounted cavalier she tore across the camp on all fours, nearly barreling through the parted tent flaps onto the pause with her outstretched hand brushing the fabric. [color=coral]"Whoops, that would have been embarrassing."[/color]

Rising up onto both legs like a civil human being, she maintained said ludicrous speed in going back for her staff, collecting it, and rushing back headlong through the tent only to collide with the broad chest of Protelo. With a complete lack of consideration for personal space she buried her chin into ribs and gave the man a look like a puppy begging for a treat. [color=coral]"Do we have our orders? Well, do we? Do we?!"[/color]