The Waif

The girl sits in the corner of the wagon. She has sat in the same spot every day of the thirty-six that they have spent on the road since leaving Almas, impossibly still. When she settles into place each morning, she all but turns into a statue. Dark leathers are carefully wrapped underneath a good grey cloak, and before her lies a wrapped up, irregularly shaped bundle. Whatever it is beneath the cloth, it looks far too big for a girl of her size to be carrying about. The girl herself is not much to look at, too pale and too small to be much of anything. Strands of mousy brown hair fall out from under her hood, framing a face with a weak jaw and sallow skin.

The only movement that Whisper undertakes with any regularity so as to be noteworthy is with her eyes. Every half a minute or so, the girl glances out at the road, at the passing wilderness, at any of the other travelers. Anyone watching her for a length of time will notice that there is a specific pattern to her observation: she is surveying for threats, scanning her surroundings and anyone nearby that might be a threat to her. Watery grey irises flit from person to person, looking at their gait, their posture, and for any weapons (hidden or otherwise).

She shivers several times in the cold air, clearly not used to these temperatures. Her clothes seem to be more suited to a temperate - or at least not wintry - climate. As the long afternoon shadows cross her face, she glances back at Rudyard and his dog, before settling on Valen. If she notices the smell she doesn't comment on it, but for the first time since undertaking this expedition, the girl has moved to the opposite corner... as far away from the chemist as physically possible in this enclosed space.

Spoiler: OOC
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Happy New Year! First post by me is to say that you can pretty much always assume that Whisper is making Perception checks (unless we're in combat). This was a fun intro to write, I'm looking forward to the game.