Lysira shivered, the wind billowing throughout the undergrowth in which she hid, it's frigid grasp entwining about the lithe form that lay concealed amongst the dense bracken.
Her nose wrinkled, a considerative gaze fixated upon the lustrous lunar light that threatened to expose her to the camp that lay a little way down the valley, muttering incoherantly to herself as she checked a small, silver pocketwatch, it's argent veneer glinting brilliantly in the moonlight.
"'S gunna' take all bloody night if it carries on like this, 'ent it.."
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Thief
