Mothea sits on a log, a yellow butterfly gently fluttering on the tips of her finger. She smiles then, suddenly hearing your rustle in the woods, she stands up and whispers to the butterfly, |Mothea} "Go my little friend," She glanced in the direction you were in. |Mothea} "Danger may be near." The butterfly, as if it could understand her, flew off and Mothea turned in your direction. Her tone shifted. "Come on, I know your there!" You stepped out and she froze. "You? The royal guard from Escott.." She mutter under her breath. She quickly glances away and shifts her feet.