<div class="floatleft">(http://i980.photobucket.com/albums/ae282/caela_ecub/Brunettes/f9fe5328-dfec-48c4-9ebd-efcbba03efc1_zps882dd06b.jpg) (http://s980.photobucket.com/user/caela_ecub/media/Brunettes/f9fe5328-dfec-48c4-9ebd-efcbba03efc1_zps882dd06b.jpg.html)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Athena Stargazer-Smith<br/><strong>Position:</strong>PhD Student/Beginning Divination Professor<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Forest<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Rome<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Lost in her own thoughts, and completely unafraid of anything that might be roaming the forest, she didn't hear Rome approaching until his voice cut through her thoughts, startling her and making her both jump, and give a slight squeak! That noise, more than her surprise, made her blush slightly before laughing at herself and flashing him a warm grin. Looking up at him, she didn't bother to rise, instead one eyebrow arched up as she took in the formality of his clothing out here in the woods. No one could call her own attire formal in the least. A sapphire sweater kept her warm, old jeans, worn so often as to be soft and fit like a second skin, had clearly seen better days and her hiking boots as well showed signs of being well used. With her hair drawn back into a loose ponytail to keep it out of her face, she could almost pass for 18 instead of 25, but something in her eyes would always make a person guess higher than her looks alone would tell.<br/><br/>Holding his gaze, her own narrowed slightly, clearly studying him and with her head slightly tilted as if hearing something no one else did. She was a Seer, her sixth sense more active than most (though thankfully not all the time!) and his presence set of bells in her head. That sense that sent Prophecy to her said that there was something dark about this man, but it didn't tell her what, or if that darkness was a danger to her. She'd sensed something of the sort in other people before and had found that it didn't necessarily make them a "bad person" but that it could simply mean that their propensity, or willingness to do, toward violence and danger was higher than most.<br/><br/>Finally she gave a small shrug, only time would tell what that sense of darkness in him meant, and let her smile fill her face with warmth once more, "You, Professor Dotson, stick out like a sore thumb out here. You move quietly, but those slacks and tie will never blend in. I'd ask you to sit with me, but would be worried about your pants getting torn or dirty," she said honestly, leaving it open to him if he wanted to sit to talk with her, or remain standing, almost looming, over her.<br/>