[ She's done the nature thing before... kind of. The city is her usual habitat, born and raised in Gotham like she was, and aside from dabbling in the wilderness here and there, she's more at home with concrete and brick. So it takes her a while to get the hang of moving as quietly as she usually does in the face of creaking branches and rustling leaves. For a while her progress through the trees isn't difficult to track in a quiet forest, and she winces with every misstep.
Finally, annoyed at herself, she stops. Her eyes are only just beginning to reacclimate to the darkness, but as long as she keeps her face at least half-turned from the light, progress is steady. She takes a few breaths, consciously wills her weight to lighten a little bit, and moves on.
It works better this time. However, this time luck isn't on her side. Her third leap finds a steady and solid land on the branch, right up into the branch itself isn't steady or sturdy under her anymore. Its partially cut width snaps, and her only noise is a muffled sharp intake as she starts to fall.
She's an old hand at falling, though. She keeps totally silent as she twists in midair, hands stretched out — one to block her face, one to catch ahold. It takes two tries and 20 feet, but 10 feet above the ground she manages to snatch another branch and swing herself over and onto it. She perches there for a few seconds, catching her breath.
Definitely tampered. No branch that thick breaks that easy. ...Which tells her a little more about the game they're playing. ]
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Finally, annoyed at herself, she stops. Her eyes are only just beginning to reacclimate to the darkness, but as long as she keeps her face at least half-turned from the light, progress is steady. She takes a few breaths, consciously wills her weight to lighten a little bit, and moves on.
It works better this time. However, this time luck isn't on her side. Her third leap finds a steady and solid land on the branch, right up into the branch itself isn't steady or sturdy under her anymore. Its partially cut width snaps, and her only noise is a muffled sharp intake as she starts to fall.
She's an old hand at falling, though. She keeps totally silent as she twists in midair, hands stretched out — one to block her face, one to catch ahold. It takes two tries and 20 feet, but 10 feet above the ground she manages to snatch another branch and swing herself over and onto it. She perches there for a few seconds, catching her breath.
Definitely tampered. No branch that thick breaks that easy. ...Which tells her a little more about the game they're playing. ]