Poppy

Poppy crept towards the red glow between the towering trees, stopping in her tracks. Poppy raised her ear to the cold air, the pointed appendage swaying for moment. The pleasant crackling of a campfire greeted her, her small nose crinkling from the aroma of searing meat. She readjusted her hammer's long pole leaning on her shoulder and wiggled the buckler's strap around on her opposing forearm, loosening its tight hold. (Found him. At least I hope it's you; the Hero.) The familiar prickles grew in the palms of her gloved hands. She squeezed her free one. (Remember the good feeling, Poppy! Good feeling! This one could be it.)

Poppy rested the Orlon's mighty hammer length wise against her torso as she arrived at an evergreen closest to the camp. Placing her back against the wooden trunk, she peeked around the corner. you sat on a log faced away from her, the swaying fire before them casting a humble glow in contrast to their earlier deeds.

(Yep, that looks like the hero alright!) The corners of her lips turned up as her gaze lingered. (Brave you, Wyvern slayer! They'll be writing songs about you soon!) Poppy nodded firmly to herself, affirming her findings. She stepped out of her cover, her voice springing out into the quiet night.

"Greetings, Hero!" She waved heartily.