A far too familiar head poked through the hole in the torn wagon. Amy had just been muttering to herself, complaining about everything from Adara's incompetence to how uncivilized this side of the world was. Spotting him Amy froze, struggling to believe that he was actually here. There was no possible way that he would show up again. Not after telling her that his pack was hunting her. He didn't disappear though, no matter how hard she squinted at him.
How did he get covered in feathers? It was a pretty comical sight to look at, and she would have laughed if she had thought more on it. The greeting broke the spell, and a choice string of words followed her acceptance of his presence. Grabbing one of her throwing knives Amy threw it, the pregnancy not damaging her aim at all. If anything, she had improved, mainly due to the fact that she'd been spending a lot of time doing target practice.
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