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The snug sensation of the sand cushioning her place along the coastline of the peninsula brought her out of her reverie daze in a slow blur. What really brought her out of stupor was the unexpected call of an out of place avian sailing above the tides. Casting her gaze to the skies with squinting eyes, Kaitriona made out a winged raptor unlike the swooping ivory and long seagulls that often patrolled the seaboards. A silhouette amongst the sunshine, variants of crimson and blue glistened from its wings. It's structure was sharp for the design of quick assaulting dives, and a piercing squall seemed to startle any other coastal birds far from its perimeters.
Kaitriona remained thoughtful, pondering of other species who called the seaminess their home. She was never really an avian watcher in the first place, but seeing as how the Kestrel began to soar off into the distance, her eyes came upon a dark form located not too far away. Kaitriona (nor Apache Outlaw) noticed the shadowy individual in the distance, and this instantly perturbed her. There were no details Kaitriona could make from this distance, all except for what the sea breeze carried of her. A female, with a tangled perfume of what smelled like a distinct aroma of a pack. She was a sore thumb for sight amid the creamy smear of white and tan sand, and for a moment Kaitriona could only sit in her spot, frozen in time, observing the other from afar. It didn't take her too long to focus even harder to see before the woman was an… easel?
Had this onlooker been… drawing Kaitriona sprawled out on the sand? Or of her equine companion, looking as gallant as ever with his mane flying in the sea breeze against the backdrop of the ocean's horizon? Wouldn't be a bad piece of art to conjure, but Kaitriona's blood froze as she realized the onlooker was in the same state of contemplating what to do now that they realized they've noticed each other. Too awkward to just stride up and be jolly, Kaitriona wouldn't be caught dead doing such a thing anyway. As Kaitriona contemplated on how to approach this exactly, she remained in her place on the sand, unmoving. Not worried but definitely cautions, she called out to the woman, her tone dry. "I certainly hope you're not drawing me. The horse would make for a better picture, anyway." Besides, she had been an escaped convict of her previous home after all, there was no need for her picture to be on any canvases where dangerous individuals from her past would recognize her.
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