Kathwyn actually liked the Wastes. The heat seemed to sink into her bones, warming her for those times when heat would be precious indeed and while it was dry and dusty it had a stark beauty that few, other than herself, would ever appreciate. She'd crossed them many times in her travels and knew that if you didn't respect the Wastes, they killed you, and that was a position she could understand all too well herself. She always walked when she crossed the wastes, never making her horse, MoonShadow carry her. It wouldn't have been fair to the horse to add her weight to the burden of dealing with the hot, dry, dusty air on top of the fact that the gelding already had a sort of sled strapped to him that carried their water supply for crossing the land.<br/><br/>One entered the Wastes without extra water at their own peril.<br/><br/>Walking beside her horse, she was humming softly to herself when she heard the sounds of fighting. Fairly one sided from the sound of it too. She turned toward it but then it stopped, making her wonder who had won. Considering how little happened in the wastes she thought it worth the diversion to find out and headed toward the nearby mountain. It's system of caves was often a resting point for those unfamiliar with the wastes...and a stopping point for slavers who knew they could often find easy prey there.<br/><br/>Leaving MoonShadow at the base of the mountain she climbed to the cave in time to hear the Starscale threatening the slavers who had already caught their prey. She had a moment to think that you didn't see many Starscale's out in the Wastes before her attention was draw by the slight movement of one of the slavers. The man had slipped a throwing knife into his hand and was aiming for a throw. It was his bad luck that he was slower that Kathwyn who released and threw a blade with a flick of her wrist, pinning the mans shirt to the rock of the cave wall with the sharp blade.<br/><br/>"Tsk, tsk. Trying to stab a man in the back isn't very sport now is it?" she asked, her voice rick and thick, almost sounding like an invitation to something wicked but the face, the face held no invitation in those cold eyes. Glancing at the Starscale she gave a small nod and glanced at the other five slavers, "So, is this a private party, or can anyone play?"