There was a rumbling. Tove woke up.
Deep in the Draconi Forest, near the base of the mountains a bit away from where the ship had crashed, there is a small, unassuming temple, made from rocks from the surrounding area and covered in soft moss, but beautiful and well-tended. Tove was sitting in a tree above it, off duty and sleeping, as most of the Acolytes tended to do. But the rumbling had been out of place on this balmy night, and she dropped from the tree, starting towards it.
There were several possibilities, the black-eyed woman considered. A mage battle. Lightning strike--clear skies, though, probably not. Tove didn't hide her movements, being as loud as she could be, because sneaking up on people who were possibly having a battle with magic? Not safe. At all.
As she weaved between the trees, she fixed her pale white and blue hair, tail twisting a little beneath the long gray skirt of her dress. Should she be angry or excited that she was doing something other than sleeping? Well, Tove wasn't really tired, she considered, but she would probably end up in some sort of trouble do to this. Not because she was getting "weird vibes"(Tove didn't buy into that "ESP" crap unless the person had legitimate magic), but because things rumbling like something had exploded around her in cases where she wasn't the one that set the explosive? Not usually a good thing. But probably interesting.
She settled on excited.