Not far from the Hunter's Lodge, the entrance to one of the Hawthorn clan's numerous subterranean homes sat well hidden within a cluster of bushes and stones. The close proximity to the popular stopping point might have seemed an odd choice for the reclusive family, but the lodge provided more cover than any other spot in the forest; the foot tracks of the other hunters hid the comings and goings of the hidden home, and with such an easy, obvious target bandits and raiders never bothered to look further.<br/><br/>Under more ideal circumstances the chances of the girl being there would have been slim. There were many similar hidden dwellings within the woods, and staying too long in any one in particular drastically raised the chances of its location being discovered. Since the Orcs and Goblins had began infesting more and more of the forest, however, Violet had found more and more of her safe havens trapped within territory controlled by the greenskins. Now the little home near the Hunter's Lodge was her last safe refuge.<br/><br/>Or it had been, until she'd heard the ruckus earlier that evening. It wasn't her concern, she told herself, and leaving to investigate would have compromised her security. She'd stayed in her home, hidden and silent until the sounds died away. She knew most of the townsfolk thought she was mad for refusing to leave the forest despite the danger, and at times like this she was inclined to agree, but pride would win out as it always did.<br/><br/>She'd finally begun to relax when she heard Thorin's cry, and a bolt of fear ran down her spine. If he'd said anything but her name she would have left him to the mercy of whatever was lurking in the woods but if he knew, or at least believed, that she was somewhere near by now anything else that had heard him would as well. She bolted from her bed, snatching her bow and arrows from a hook nearby. There was no time to dress properly; if whatever had ransacked the cabin were near enough to hear the shout they would be upon the clearing soon. Grabbing a long, heavy cloak from the back of a chair she threw it on over her nightshirt and hastily pulled on a pair of soft leather boots before slipping out the hidden door.<br/><br/>Moments later the small, cloaked figure darted out of the under brush and towards the woodsman. "What are you doing you fool?!" she hissed. Bright green eyes peered critically up at him from the shadows of the hood, the two branched horns protruding from a pair of crudely cut holes immediately identifying the speaker.