[Heather is standing to attention with her faithful (if bratty) Furret by her side. For once, there's no casual look on her face, no grin or smirk, or even expression of annoyance. Underneath all the accumulated grunge from the past few days of fighting and searching, she's a little pale, with furrowed brows and lips pressed in a grim line. She'd hidden her bag among some rocks-- it wouldn't do to be blundering around in an enclosed space with a lot of things that could get caught on stuff.]
[Her Growlithe, too, is absent-- safe inside a Pokeball in her Pocket. If there's one thing that's been pounded into Heather's head about dark, creepy places with dangerous things in them, it's that quiet is the most important thing to be. And she doesn't trust Cujo to keep his slobbery muzzle shut.]
Trap or not, this isn't something we can afford not to take a chance on.
[She scrubs her hair out of her eyes and cracks her knuckles loudly.]
no subject
[Her Growlithe, too, is absent-- safe inside a Pokeball in her Pocket. If there's one thing that's been pounded into Heather's head about dark, creepy places with dangerous things in them, it's that quiet is the most important thing to be. And she doesn't trust Cujo to keep his slobbery muzzle shut.]
Trap or not, this isn't something we can afford not to take a chance on.
[She scrubs her hair out of her eyes and cracks her knuckles loudly.]
I'm with you guys all the way.
Let's do this.