<div class="floatright">(http://i418.photobucket.com/albums/pp264/Stia616/Elf_Rogueavatar.jpg)</div><br/>Tavia woke as the sun rose. When the sun light hit her eyes she groaned and turned away, the movement causing her to groan even more as her sore muscles protested after the hard night sleep. Finally she gave up and moved closer to the fire, grumbling softly to herself.<br/><br/>“Morning Diego,” she said, shivering slightly in the chill morning air. At Diego’s words she nodded. “I made a promise to the women that I would bring the boy back, and one way or another I will do that.”<br/><br/>Tavia continued to sit and warm herself by the fire, lost in her own thoughts when a blue haired stranger walked into the camp unseen to her. She looked up in surprise as he spoke, the voice unfamiliar to her, and promptly fell off the log she was sitting on. Cursing none to quietly, she picked herself up off the sand and dusted herself down. She glared at the new comer, failing to remember if he had been on the ship or not.  “And who may you be, good sir?” she said, her voice and stance unconsciously taking on the timber of her mother when talking to an unwanted guest at their home.