<div class="floatleft">(http://i68.tinypic.com/2s0gyz5.jpg)</div><strong>Tashiel Averlorn</strong><br/><br/>It takes a few moments of cold staring before Tashiel finally relents, but when she does, she thaws noticeably.  Almost shyly, she smiles at Senna's joking, the corners of her lips only just turning up.  "Ten years is perhaps not so long for an elf as it is for a human."  She says.  "But... yes, it is quite a long time.  Quite a long time indeed."  For a moment, she hesitates, lips parted as though to say more, but shakes her head instead.<br/><br/>Tashiel walks over to retrieve her fullblade from the stump, moving slowly, with a natural grace.  She hefts it easily, and sets about strapping it to her back, both hands working.  "As for a plan... yes.  But study of tactics is another thing my training with the blade left little time for."  She stops fiddling with her sword for a moment, tilting her head to the side thoughtfully.  "We must divide those fifteen into more manageable numbers.  But we don't know what they want."  Her cheeks redden just a touch.  "Well... it did seem that there was one thing they wanted.  I'm not sure how to use that."