Neverwinter Forest I've got a jar of dirt

Turquoise spent several days sulking, bitching to Rivet about Lawless the chauvinist and why did males suck so much and how could their brand new pack house such an asshole and how was she supposed to make friends if everybody was liable to be a dick? Eventually, all the negativity led to the inevitable argument and they stomped in opposite directions. Turquoise was left alone, very dissatisfied with life at the moment and hankering for company. And here she'd effectively chased Rivet away and she didn't know anybody else.

Shit, was her only coherent thought as she began stalking moodily through the forest. At least walking helped her burn off her negative energy. In fact, she felt much better after an hour or so of hard trekking. She still had plenty of energy, it just wasn't so overwhelmingly negative.

"Actually," she announced to the quiet forest, gazing up between the boughs of the leafy trees, "I'm kind of in the mood for a spar. Since I'm supposed to be a what's-it—a Gunner—and all. Anybody out there wanna play target?" Of course, she didn't expect an answer from the silent trees.