[color=a8d7e8][i]This isn't even my normal hair color,[/i][/color] she mused wryly. A faint memory flashed in her mind of the last time someone had complimented her hair, causing the smallest of smiles to turn the corner of her mouth. As soon as it bloomed, it stopped just before it reached her eyes. A soft sadness thrummed behind the brilliant sapphires for a moment, and with a blink of her eyes, it disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

She glanced at each of the party members as they were introduced, gracing each with a slight, respectful bow. Her demeanor remained polite as she acknowledged each, her gaze lingering a bit on the man with the rifle. However, she quickly turned her attention to the masks as Evie did.

Her eyes focused on the stairs as Evie tentatively approached the masks, apprehension suffusing her muscles. She cast a sidelong look at Locke as his helmet snapped shut, increasingly curious about the technology behind it. Her right hand slid to the haft of her scythe with practiced ease. The weapon loosened from its hook with the slightest [i]shkk[/i] sound, its weight settling comfortably into her hand. She held the blade low, tracing a sharp semicircle behind her legs as she assumed a low stance, relaxed, but ready to strike at a moment’s notice. She leaned forward ever so slightly, her focus entirely on the extended fingers meeting the mask before her.