[@Diabolic]

[i]The sound and senstion of motion was prickling in the very ambience, something Atticus quickly tuned into, selectively ousting the various chatter of the wild fowl or scampering woodland creatures. While her own movements on the soil may have left soft, muted footsteps, the snap and bend of branches overhead immediately allowed for her to assess the qualities of this intruder.[/i]

[i]Their brisk pace was more the choice of someone that knew where they were headed rather than a stranger to these lands. She did not see any sort of Imperial insignia or coat of arms that would designate this quick intruder as an ally or enemy as she tailed behind, dropping her speed every so slightly to obscure into the background. The way the trees groaned, however, suggested that this was a man of considerable height and weight. Armed, no doubt. Probably well armored.[/i]

[i]Her right hand seemed to grasp at something on her left, prompting the jarring, shrill sound of technology powering to life. In a streak of motion, she dropped her body low to the ground, temporarily disappearing from sight altogether as she sped ahead of the intruder, waiting for the moment he was posed to leap for the next perch before driving her seemingky fragile fist into the trunk of the aged oak. Whatever produced that sound only grew louder as her punch chewed through the stony bark and through the soft flesh of the core, splintering the tree as it threatened to collapse. Any weight more on it and the strange blur of a man would come crashing down, no doubt. And if he halted to retreat, well, it would give her plenty of time to scrutinize him for directives. Either someone was going to end up cold, bruised, and swimming in saliva and blood, or have a good amount of excuses to explain.[/i]