Heather had gone some distance ahead from her companions-- she wasn't avoiding them (and had in fact been all too keen to stick around closely, particularly at night... she didn't want to wake up only to find them gone...) but being alone with her thoughts was something she'd been needing a little of right now.

So it's with her hands in her pockets (and, oddly, that seemingly-eyeless little Tyrogue toddling along some ways behind her with the pale yellow egg in its hands-- apparently she hadn't smashed the egg after all) that she's tromping along through the somewhat bleak February terrain.

But at the sound of Crow's voice, she whipped her head up.

She'd known he was coming, of course... but seeing him in person was sort of another thing entirely.

Although she didn't return his greeting at first, she did pick up a slight jog towards the alighted Pidgeot.