 For Freya/Vrscika! The Last of Her Kind
Adrienne wouldn't say that she was... skulking, exactly. She was just hanging around the swamp, giving suspicious looks to everyone that passed, arms crossed tightly and back pressed up against the wall so hard she could almost feel the bricks making imprints on her skin through her robes.
...okay, she was skulking.
But she had good reason! Her mood was fouler than the odour coming from the swamp, and that was saying something. She was bloody annoyed at everything, she'd woken up that morning to find it was that time of the month, and the letter she'd sent to Papa a week and a half ago was still lacking a reply. So Adrienne was hardly feeling up to to doing anything other that skulk, except maybe taking out her anger on random passers-by, if any were unwise enough to provoke her.
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