To call the sound a growl would concede that its source was indeed animalistic.  Calling the noise a grunt would detract from its effect on the support staff who quickly stepped aside.  Most would feel safe concluding the sound as a growl, especially after seeing the tattooed figure move down after.  Predatory grace was a poetic term for the stalking that was performed when she walked past.  Tanned flesh twitched with energy while long limbs moved with a fluid nature at her command.  Rare was it that a sound was made when her feet touched the deck.  Rarer still was it a face she saw that earned more than a dismissive glance.  Those that might take offense did so quietly as the scars at her forearms and abdomen spoke of a figure unafraid to risk harm for victory.<br/><br/>The idea of sitting in her room had been unappealing.  That place was discomforting at best, alien at worst when she attempted to sleep.  So she saw no need to sit in those confines while a different landscape unfolded around her.  Soft sandals graced her feet on this journey, a comfort from home that she was being forced to abandon.  Her long legs were covered by knee length shorts of brown which were also a relic she was being asked to abandon.  The top over her chest seemed more to cling at her shoulders than truly settle there, it’s green surface hugging against her frame tightly.  This allowed most to take note of the swirling tattoos and scars that were marks of honor by her tribe.  Each had been earned in some fashion and at home they were meant to be displayed.  Here, their affect produced more fear than respect.  Stigga figured that would do.<br/><br/>Those inside the common room might hear a thud as her fist slammed into the door controls.  A growl then issued once more followed by a short breath.  Fingers rammed into the appropriate buttons so that it would slide away.  Blue eyes widened at first in surprise to see others, then narrowed sharply to cover the initial bout.  A hand moved upward to brush aside strands of black hair.  That hair had only recently been cut by knife point to be above her shoulders.  Its unprofessional nature showed itself clearly in the tattered remains that touched her face and neck.  A tilt of her head to the side produced a series of crackles while her knuckles produced similar effects from her thumb pushing against each.  She made a step forward so that the door would close behind her and she could meet her new clan.<br/>