[h3]Madara[/h3]
	Madara didn't seem to have much to contribute to the ongoing discussion, letting the more martially inclined among them to sort out their own business in absence of any apparent-to-even-her glaring flaws in need of correcting in their plans. Gods' forbid she overstepped her boundaries meddling in the fighters' affairs trying to micromanage what these people, quite literally, did for a living. Just the same, she would have been quite bemused indeed if the same people tried to teach her how to reconnect tendons. Wouldn't [i]that[/i] be a treat to hear... 
	Only Yanin and Vela seemed to, albeit briefly, take evident interest in her presence. The half-palanter's right eyebrow arched in anticipation of an inquiry that never arrived upon Lady Bor's inspection of her. Admittedly, she didn't know the baroness well enough to take a stab at what she was thinking, and the exoskeleton made it harder to read expressions past the keen once-over of the penin's eyes. Was it wondering what her purpose was here? Surely, there could be no questioning her role back at the guardhouse. Medical supplies didn't come cheap for one, even if she had no intention of requesting payment from the poor sods annihilated by the very bandits they were now after. 

	[color=1a7b30]"I believe I was instructed to stay back with you till the situation calls for my intervention,"[/color] the woman in green noted, in a tone oddly reminiscent of someone listing the ingredients of a blend of tea, [color=1a7b30]"I am a surgeon, perhaps a negotiator, not a soldier. I'll fight only when I see no better option, be it like my mother's kind, or something a bit more improvised."[/color] The pointed nail of a slender finger tapped not the dagger by her side, but one of the vials she had pointed out earlier, back at the guardhouse.  
	Not a fighter, yes, but not entirely defenseless, either. 
	
	People were moving in position. Lady Bor, for one, scaled a tree with athleticism not at all suitable for someone purporting to retire for good. But, she guessed, they did tell people to quit while they were still ahead. Avoid a disgraceful end, perhaps.
	Perching in a tree might make relocating slightly less subtle, but also being discovered in the first place a lot less likely. And ambushes, if one such really ended up being necessary? A lot easier to execute. Hmh. Could as well. 
	The half-palanter's ascent of a different, but close by tree was seemingly just as effortless, but a lot less acrobatic and more, somehow, [i]mundane.[/i] It was almost as if she had simply opted to walk up a tree trunk at a brisk pace like one might hurry up a set of steep stairs, only incidentally touching a hand to the gnarled bark along the way before settling on a thicker limb at appropriate height. 
	The green tunic blended with the foliage a good seven meters up quite nicely, if she were to say so herself. The view was good, too.