It had taken most of the afternoon, but Cara was finally glitter-free, and her likewise glitter-free leathers were carefully hung away.

After wrestling with the fastening on her dress (which had taken the non-glitter-removing part of her afternoon to find), and rescuing her hair after it got caught in the fastening, she sat down at the table to wait. Immediately she started drumming her fingers against the tabletop.

Within five minutes she was up and pacing, occasionally readjusting her cleavage.

So really, it was like any other random evening of hers. Nothing at all out of the ordinary. Nothing.

[For the girl.]

Cara wasn't packing, not really if you asked her. She wasn't really the type to acquire a great many possessions, and she tended to keep anything she didn't want to lose already packed so she could grab them and her weapons without wasting time if there was need. So it should have been easy enough just to leave it at that.

But even without only gathering a minimum of things, she'd been here long enough to collect some, and it turned out there was a middle ground between things that could be easily left without a second thought, and things she needed to keep. Sure she could be ruthlessly pragmatic about what she took, but if she was going to do that... she'd probably have to start taking things out of the pack as well.

[Door and post open.]

Instead of her usual post-radio bed-flop (talking that much was draining, all right?), Cara was pacing, fingers drumming restlessly against her thighs.

She mightn't have worn a hole in the carpet yet, but given the tension in her shoulders it was only a matter of time.

[Expecting one.]

"It's not that I'm unhappy or ungrateful they came, even if I wasn't expecting them."

Cara was not avoiding either of her guests.

"Or that they walked in on us, we'd barely even gotten started."

Because that would imply there was a problem with Richard or Kahlan being here.

"...rum is not the solution to all of life's problems."

People sneaked out of their rooms to find a random squirrel to talk at about things which most definitely weren't problems with all the time. Right?

[For the one with the most epic hair on the island.]

Cara had decided to give the picnic a miss. She didn't like crowds and mingling at the best of times, and given she didn't have anyone coming to visit her, going to this particular one was a slap in the face she could avoid

Besides she had much, much better things to be doing with her time. One of which was in the room with her.

[For ze boy and then...]

After the various creatures Cara had spend the last three days killing had finished vanishing, it might have made more sense to head back to the dorms, but the cabins were somewhat closer, and contained the closest thing to a change of clothes Cara actually owned, and she felt a desperate need to get rid of the gore and the Creator-only-knew-what encrusting her skin and leathers.

The notion that certain other things might reappear in the same place they'd vanished from had absolutely no bearing on this decision. Which meant she wasn't the slightest bit disappointed to find out she was wrong there. Really.

[For that one guy.]

Cara was not the kind of person to come slowly to wakefulness. Mord'Sith training saw to that. But there were times it took several minutes to realise and remember where exactly she was waking up. Today was one of those times.

( Cut for length and vague NWS-ness )

[For one.]

Cara had been feeling the urge to head down to the woods most of the week, which in and of itself wasn't highly unusual as they still felt like the most familiar place on the island. What was unusual was the unsettling and often confusing dreams (no seriously, she had no idea what a half-fixed, half-variable home-loan even was, let alone why she'd want one) that had accompanied this feeling.

But since hunting things usually made her feel better, she eventually gave into the urge, and was stalking through the preserve, bow in hand.

[For two.]