“C’mon, c’mon!” The high-pitched voice was much too cheerful to make up a battle cry, and its source was the smallest figure in the offending group. If eyes had been trained on this certain accomplice from the very beginning, it could have been quite obvious that they weren’t dealing with any sort of mercenaries (at least with this one, you can’t really call [i]those[/i] movements anywhere close to [i]thug-ish[/i]). It was almost like watching a kid pop out from behind a rock (literally). However, the trio had a clear purpose and the clipped energy this figure had before they slung the net over the humans was quickly shoved away until the deed was done and their prey was, in almost all aspects, immobile.

[b]”Where is the list?”[/b] ??? asked, and the three of them were in a tight triangular formation with the humans in the center.

Then, she pulled back her hood. The moment of cool surprise ambush-

[i]”Redundant, miss Renaudo! It seems as if you’ve caught your cousin’s faulty grammar!”[/i] A ringing voice flickered within her head before fading away, an intangible element that was lost again in the hazy black abyss which was her mind these days.

-or something. Whatever. Gosh, who cared about grammar during this time? Anyway! 

Gary pursed her lips and then twirled her staff around. She was a petite person, somewhere close to 5’5 but never really quite touching the mark, with a round face that could be described as pretty, or at the most extreme sort of flattery, striking. After all, her bright pink hair clashed with the lively emerald orbs that were her eyes, though one’s attention could probably be taken away from these eccentric features by the bright, even-toothed grin playing on her face.

Or, if one was more attuned to violence, the thick metal staff she was expertly twirling around was probably her most noticeable feature at this given time. After all, the weapon was even a foot taller than the girl herself was, and merely possessing it granted her considerable range.

She didn’t seem particularly inclined with watching the humans, and flitted to and fro her spot to the one of the boy beside her. “Shhhhhhhtttt, Sacchhhiiin! Look at that hommun’s earrings! They’re like, you know, bird arms. Or something. What’s the word? Feet-ers?” Gary whispered energetically before scooting back to her position soon as one of the humans answered ???’s query.

[b]"Asking for information like that, it's unmannerly of a young lady. A hungry bear does not dance. How about we have a proper introduction, hmm?"[/b]
Hungry bears…? Not dance….? Uh…?
God!

Before she could help herself, Gary swung her staff forth and brought it down in an arc above the interrogator’s head (they were supposed to be the ones asking questions!). The sound it produced, of weaponry melding with human bone and flesh, was loud enough to scare some toffee bats from their slimy perch within the recesses of the tunnel. Still, she had excellent control of her arm and instead of fully focusing the attack on the man’s head (and giving him a right concussion, what with sprouting stuff like that), she had angled the staff so that it nicked some before sliding down to the stones on the floor. Nevertheless, he would feel quite a sting for hours to come. 
Gary pulled her beloved pole to an upright position and surveyed the humans. The girl had answered their question, but not quite. Meh, Luke could try to decipher her talk; she was going to rant. “Gee, Mr. Philosophy Pants, was that thing about the bear really necessary?” She snapped with an irritated edge to her voice. 

In but a second, the tension was dropped as she turned to her companion, the one she had addressed as Sacchin, and pushed her pole away from him. “Nope, you’re not confiscating le pole, Sacchin!” Gary sang out a bit silently; only the human near her would’ve heard this declaration.