This would have to do for now.
Frey looked around the camp with the gaze of a hawk. People were laughing and talking around the fire, or hanging clothes to dry outside of their tents. This wooded area would make a decent place to live for a while. They be able to hide from the Reavers for a while, and at least they'd all have a few days to rest before they would need to start heading out again.
It was hard to move as a large group, but everyone cooperated fairly well. They children knew that when it was time to hide, they had to be silent. The elderly or less capable received help from the rest of the party. Those that were able bodied trained with swords, bows, and axes. Anything they could their hands on, really. In their situation, real blacksmith crafted weapon were hard to come by.
Frey, herself, was partial to her two swords. Though they left her with no hands to carry a shield, they let her attack much more swiftly. Crafted with light, yet durable metals, her blades had lasted her since they'd first left their village. She trusted them as much as she trusted her people. They'd never let her down before, and with the vast amounts of training she put into everyday, she was able to make sure that she didn't let them down, either.
Tucking a piece of burgundy hair behind her ear, Frey began to make a scout around their camp, just to make sure that everyone was accounted for.