[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/e34c1535-2aca-424d-af03-e9c40a1f0d4b.png[/img]
[hr][h3][color=6ecff6]S   i   m   b   e   l   m   y   n   ë[/color][/h3][hr][/center]
Walking near the rear of the group and a bit to herself, Simbel was observing her companions. Her face, an expressionless mask of ivory, obfuscated the thoughts and feelings simmering inside her - confusion, anxiety, excitement, uncertainty. She had never before travelled in a group such as this, even among her sisters in the coven. The witches o' the woods were seldom seen more than two at a time, apart from when they gathered in worship of the Wilder. Simbel was used to being alone, or in the company of Mother. She expected struggle and possibly conflict in the coming days, but was surprised to feel something pleasant as well. It felt good to belong, to be doing something together, even if it was with people that were strange to her. Perhaps Mothers relation to the mentors of these strangers lent her a sense of security - if Mother trusted them, Simbel could, too.

But they [i]were[/i] strange to her. The large man, a soldier or priest of sorts, made her wary. She did not like soldiers, or armies, or wars. Those were the darkest evils of civilization, Mother had said, and the stories she had told Simbel about those things had chilled her to the bone. The woman with the red eyes invoked similar feelings in Simbel, but they stemmed from a lack of knowledge of, rather than an opinion on, her vocation. She looked like a lamb, but had the gaze of a wolf. The elvian woman, their supposed leader, Simbel was undecided on. She felt there was more to her than what was visible on the surface, but not in a malignant way. The finely dressed, jittery woman was, as far as Simbel could tell, no threat. Her heart appeared to the young witch to be burdened by fear and indeciciveness. She might even need looking after, once they were in the wild proper.

Simbel yielded a small smile at that thought. She would soon be back where she belonged, far away from chimneys and smoke and streets and walls. The woods awaited her, with their sublime scents and whispering winds. To tread moss again, to climb stock and stone, filled her heart with joy. The wild was truly her home. She looked at the meek woman, meeting her eye. [color=6ecff6]The woods are beautiful at night[/color], she said, hoping to share her joy but knowing how to properly convey it in the tone of her voice, [color=6ecff6]When the full moon shines, and you hear the wolves howling in the dark as they prepare for their hunt.[/color] Simbel realized her face had remained expressionless as she spoke, so she quickly added a small smile, although her eyes remained unblinking. Wether it had the effect she had intended, she could not say.