Hazel's attention was momentarily taken by an uproar. It seemed a fight was beginning to break out. She could care less. As far as she was concerned this fighting was little more then boys trying to show off how macho they were with their silly sword and armor. It seemed to her that in her few weeks exploring the world all men were little more then bumbling fools. Few were dependable, like Winston, and even fewer were nearly as strong as they wanted to seem. As far as Hazel was concerned women were far more reliable, as vapid and vain as some may be. She did not realize the irony in this thought.

Although it seemed that the camp was mostly dominated by men, there were other women. Hazel was better then all of them. 

It wasn't long before one of the women approached her. Hazel knew her power would command a natural respect among those around her, it would just take a second for people to notice. She marked this women as the first of many followers before she had approached. She gushed with foolish pride at how perceptive her new henchman must be to have noticed her.

[i]“Hey there Spell Spitter,”[/i]

Hazel slightly recoiled as the women placed her arm around her. [i]Oh Atros this creature is touching me.[/i] 

This women would not be her new henchman, and she already felt a deep contempt for her. Hazel was not prepared for the next quip.

[i]“Er, aren’t you a little short to be a warrior?”[/i]

Hazel flushed with anger. [i]I can burn you. I want to burn you.[/i] She said the words in her head but not aloud. She could feel the rage welling up inside. How dare this stranger insult her.

[i]“Say, don’t I know you from somewhere?”[/i]

Hazel balked on her initial anger for a moment. So her reputation did precede her! Of course it did! It was now obvious to Hazel that a mage as powerful of her was well known. This girl may be a bit uncultured, but Hazel quickly determined that she would teach her proper manners. The excitement welled inside her. Her first follower!

[i]“But in all seriousness, you look a little down. Hey, the Word Weaver told us to be friends so… wanna be friends?”[/i]

Hazel's excitement quickly doubled back into a swirling combination of anger and nervousness. Her thoughts quickly leaped back and forth from '[i]Oh no she wants to be friends what do I do[/i]' and '[i]Oh no this lesser creature presumes to be friends with me[/i]' to '[i]Oh my Atros I'm making a friend[/i]'.

Hazel was certainly now visibly flustered and confused, as her mind quickly overloaded with emotion. Seconds passed as the strangers question hung in the air. Hazel mustered all the answer she could.

"Uhhhhh..."

By now Hazel had completely forgot that her height had been insulted, and the approach of another person put her further on edge. 

[i]"How's it going, Incinerator?"[/i]

This one was a young man, who was exceedingly handsome. Hazel flushed. His features were perfection: He was a bronzed god, his visage graced by a wry smile. Her face reddened further. She was surrounded by way too many strangers for her liking. She was completely uncomfortable and out of sorts and unable find her usual fiery self. She felt the persona she usually wore melting away, assaulted by the pair of friendly strangers. Her mouth still hung open from her last 'Uhhhh'. She gave the same answer to the boy.

"Uhhhhh..."