<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/66/Cassandra1.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Abigail "Abbey" Statham (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=207204.msg10270715#msg10270715)<br/><strong>Cabin:</strong>Hermes<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Forge<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>September 24, 6:45<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Vincent Guerrero<br/><strong>Notes:</strong><hr/><br/>It had been four days since Abbey had arrived at the gates of this camp, and she still wasn't very sure about what she was doing there. Before the matter of her mother had been brought up, she had everything worked out, her shit was in order, and she was even going to start getting paid for doing what she loved.  The Discovery channel had been foaming at the mouth, trying to get her to agree to star in some new, woman vs. the wild deal; and even though she knew it would have been tedious, dealing with a crew of people following her around, it would have brought in some income.  Not that she was in need of money, her dad was more than happy to pay for her adventures, but still, it would have been nice.  But than, her dad had to go on and throw a wrench in her plans.  How could she go on camera when she could get attacked by some serious monster from some ancient myth, at any time.  It was inconvenient, is what it was.  So she had packed a bag with the essentials and trekked her skinny ass all the way over to some camp in Long Island.  But hey, so far this place was more comfortable than a hammock in Brazil, she'll give it that.<br/><br/>It had taken her four days to get into a routine.  Wake up, run, shower, eat, explore/hunt/whatever, study, eat some more, than sleep; she was swiftly getting good at it, it was an easy existence.  Which explained why she was up at the ass crack of dawn right now.  She liked this time of the day, especially in this camp, where most people seemed to be asleep, and it was quiet, and cool.  She had just taken a few laps around the camp, her leg muscles burning in that way she loved so much.  She felt energized, awake, and in the mood to conquer anything and everything.  For the hundredth time, she wished she could go off and just jump into another adventure; but she squashed that feeling down, by stopping to stretch out her hamstrings, her breath came whooshing out in a puff of carbon dioxide.  It was probably because she had stopped, and the sound of her own heartbeat was no longer pumping loudly in her ears, that she heard music playing somewhere nearby-ish.  She stood still, her breathing evening out, while she listened to it.  It took her a moment to recognize the words being sung were in Spanish, and it got her curiosity piqued.  She'd been to Mexico a few times, traveled through it more times than she could count, and had even haggled an old man out of his donkey once, which yeah, sounded racist as hell, but it had really happened, so yeah.  But she had never heard whatever it was that was playing, and it seemed...well not overly interesting, but different from what she's been around in the past six months.<br/><br/>Despite her curiosity, she started out again, her pace slower, since she was nearing her run.  But when she was going past two cabins, she peeked through and spotted the source of the noise.  And almost toppled over with the need to laugh.  She slapped a hand over her mouth trying not to laugh too hard, as she took in the scene of a one legged man, banging away at something in nothing but a pair of jeans, while he wiggled around, moving his hips to the music being played.  She knew she shouldn't be laughing, but really, she wasn't one to treat anyone with a disability any differently than she would treat someone who was perfectly intact, and this dude deserved to be laughed at, his hips were really moving!  Looking around, she didn't spot anyone else nearby, so she propped herself up against one of the cabin walls, and watched for a few more minutes, before whistling loudly, in a parody of a catcall.<br/>