A young maiden peered out through the trees, brushing a few unruly strands of hair out of her face. She had been eluding the dangers in the woods for quite some time now; her face was slightly dirt-streaked, her black tights and top filthied from her travels. Her dark brown eyes scanned the horizon warily, her mouth opening in dismay at the sight of a dragontaur - and the smell of blood. Despite the dirt, her already pale skin seemed to visibly whiten. The girl shuddered. The dragon had turned - it was moving away. She made herself as still as she could, edging behind a tree, barely audible rustles sighing from her location. Jitoru grimaced. For all her survival, she was fairly certain that one day her lousy stealth would do her in.