Jenna had been quietly panting to herself but refused to sit down, taking instead to against a tree. A thin layer of frustration had been building up over the last few days. Surely, it was a fake by now she though while watching that darn shred of fabric. She thought of other things and breathed her muscles loose. Remember the prize, her father always said. 

She looked around at the surroundings and found them to deemed them to lack interest, nowhere to find and there was a bloodlust which boiled. Her eyes scanned more and landed on the Rook's waterskin. Her mouth realised its own dryness and she reached for her own pack. her angst relaxing upon the first taste of liquid. She closed her eyes and took in the essence.

The unmistakable ruffle of foliage rustled at her feet. Her hand, as it never really left it, pulsed on the dagger at her belt. She waited for whatever rodent or otherwise scatter from safety.