<div class="floatright">(http://i418.photobucket.com/albums/pp264/Stia616/Elf_Rogueavatar.jpg)</div><br/>Coughing from laughter Tavia took the offered hand and pulled herself to her feet. “Sorry Shurkroat…” said the elf, a slight blush on her face from her outburst as she dusted herself down. “And yes, you’re probably right. Sticking together is probably a good idea.” She coughed again and shoved Diego by his shoulder once more. “Don’t do that again, ok?” she said wagging a finger at him, a look of playful seriousness on her face.<br/><br/>She shook her head at his blatant flirting and turned away, walking to where she had left the young boy. She picked him up gently; making sure the old sail was still wrapped firmly around his small frame. She coughed again, both from the aftermath of the tickling and the sadness that was welling inside of her once more. She bit her lip and bid the tears to stay away. The young elven woman was almost certain that the gathered party thought her strange and crying after laughing so hard was not going to help those thoughts. Most people thought her strange when they saw her switch from one emotion to another in a blink of an eye, but it was nothing she could help. She was who she was and although she tried her best to control the more violent aspects of her outbursts, she couldn’t control them all.<br/><br/>Sighing Tavia stood and turned, heading back to the camp fire with the boy. Tears made her eyes glisten in the early morning sun, but none fell. “Right then, are we ready to move on?”