The only reason why the tall lithe cheerleader was falling behind was because she stopped to retie her hiking boots. Still kneeling, her well toned legs bent so that her knee is pushed against a flat rock as she ties the laces, Erika sighs exasperatingly. "Rub it in, Professor. Rub it in a little more," she grumbles, wiping her knee free of dirt and then cleaning the remnants off her hands with her green button up shirt, seductively left with the top two buttons undone. As a cheerleader, she was used to running and gymnastics and athletics, but she had never been on a camping trip before. Half of the gear that was on the email was both brand new, and completely alien to her. What the hell was a Swedish Firesteel anyways? Like the rest of the things she didn't know about, it went into the framed hiking pack. "I would kill for a Jamba Juice right now," she complained as she stepped over a fallen tree branch, and around a rock. Catching up with the rest of the group, she looks around curious, not seeing where Professor Botwin went.