[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/X0xz847.png[/img]

[color=34c9cd]”That tree looks spoopy.”[/color]

[color=888888]— Luana Roycroft[/color]

[/center]

[sub][@Rune_Alchemist][@Crimson Paladin][/sub]

[hider=Catch up reactions]

Luana tipped her head when Ethelred placed his hands on the side of his head. [color=34c9cd]”You’re going to cover your ears? But isn’t your helmet in the way?”[/color] She shrugged her shoulders. [color=34c9cd]”Well, suit yourself.”[/color] 

Her head snapped over to Lugh when he snatched the ear plugs out of her hand. [color=34c9cd]”Yea, something’s better than nothing, isn’t it?”[/color] 

 [/hider]

Luana continued to mimic her fellow knights’ behavior. Though it was difficult to do from the back. Ethelred was wearing a helmet, and the earplugs prevented her from hearing him well. Elnith wasn’t any more helpful. Her billowing hair made her face impossible to read. Lugh might have been a safe person to mimic, but his short stature and bushy scalp also obscured his face from Luana’s position. Was pulling your hair back out of style? Did obscuring your face give some advantage when fighting the enemy? Were thick bangs just “in” this year? She could make an exception for Ethelred and Elnith because one was wearing a noggin protector and the other was a woman. But little Lugh had no reason to grow out his hair like that. Though if it grew out enough, maybe it would cover his ears and he could pretend to be a plant. He’d need to dye it a bit, but it was workable. Maybe it was okay that he was growing his hair like that.

Still didn’t help Luana’s case. 

It didn’t take Luana a moment to know that there was something up with that tree. Her imagination immediately got to work thinking of nightmare scenarios. They walk into the tree, one at a time, and a series of blades come out of the walls and dice them up. Or maybe the tree would draw them in and then crush them with a single chomp. Perhaps the trunk of the tree ran deep into the earth where a great beast waited to devour them. Her grip tightened on her spear. Her lips closed. Her brow furrowed. 

[color=34c9cd]”You’re going down!”[/color] 

She charged to the front of the group and hurled her spear into the air. Poets would write about the speed of her throw, or how it cut through the air, but it was on par for an experienced spear thrower. Unless the tree moved, the spear would continue its arc and smack into the trunk.