Stalking carefully, crouched and coiled to spring Fern's bared feet carry her cautiously over the wooden floor.  The scent of lacquer heavy.  Eyes narrowed in focused observation, Fern brings her hands up to where a solid wall should reside.  Looking past that to the crouched form and stalking beast, her breath held precious within her.  Glancing quickly to the door at the far end, she turns her focus again to the form of her friend.  A determined set of her jaw the only precursor before raising her fists, prepared to beat through or disspell whatever magics held sway.