Martel slid  over the path, keeping to herself.  She had been learning it was...  Best to keep to herself.<br/><br/>She had been feeling a little...  Lonely lately, a little put out.  She knew when she left her tribe that the outside world would not embrace her anywhere near so tightly as her friends, family, and others had.  She had known that things would be trying at times, but she had not been ready for the ostracization, the cold words so many met her with.  Though her ample, bare chest frequently caught the eyes of various human and humanoid men, a few seeming to cast sidelong glances at her pale blue skin, those hints of lust were the only sign of interest or, commonly, kindness she received as she had moved into this area.<br/><br/>She scowled, slightly, running a hand through her black hair, tied back so as not to drift into her eyes as she traveled.  She moved unarmed, unarmored, and many had considered her weak for it.  She had taught them better, the skills, the powers that had been granted to her by the village shaman's tutelage had proved more than a match for many who had lashed out against her for being different, for being strange.<br/><br/>Was she really so strange?<br/><br/>The snake woman's hand drifted down along her own torso, feeling the scales that speckled it irregularly, drifting down to where most humans would have legs.  She did not, she had a long, serpentine body, covered completely in deep purple scales.  As she traveled she 'stood' less than five feet tall, but she could draw herself to a significantly greater height, she looked up at the road, and then back at her bracelets, leather set with metal studs, made with symbols of her people, symbols for protection.<br/><br/>Her dark eyes of green looked up then, scanning the road, her instincts not letting her leave herself unguarded, even in times of such self reflection.  There were other people on the road, a carriage, and...  Another one, fallen by the roadside.  A sign of trouble, though trouble past or present?  She discarded her worries, she would need to be on her guard, and she drew her body up, gaining a foot in height to have a better vantage point, to scan the surroundings.<br/><br/>She frowned softly as she saw the metal.  Whether the fallen cart was a previous victim, or something they had orchestrated to slow down their victims, it seemed there were folk most unpleasant lurking in the woods.  She began to move slowly forward, toward the others, it seemed some of them had spotted the bandits, but she was not certain about those in the carriage.  Though they might treat her poorly, she was not the sort to simply let others be assaulted alone or unawares, she would support these people in the struggle to come.<br/><br/>(Check: Roll Result: Martel rolled: 1d20, adding 8 to the total: Result: 18, Total: 26)