Maeve Connolly had donned men's clothes for this particular adventure, and Merlin, did she love the freedom felt in her legs. Her long, red hair was tied back in a sensible braid that belied her sex even if her curves (LOL) didn't, making her decidedly not a typical picture—but since when had the auror been typical? Practicality, after all, was key, and so the Irishwoman had also brought a compass (which someone would hopefully know how to read, since she didn't), a large canteen of water, and a small kit containing bandages and salves in case anyone got stabbed potentially by her. It was good to see a familiar, useful face—Sterling—in their number, too. All in all, Maeve was confident that this would be a successful quest.

"I'll take up the lead," Maeve said with the authority of someone who was actually in charge here, even though, strictly speaking, they were all equals. Whoever suggested Trelawney take the front plainly had no idea what he was doing. Sterling, the rear. Mr. Macfusty, stick to the middle—you'll make a good marker if the back end starts to fall behind," she added with a wry smile, an expression that shifted to a grimace as a locust flew into her eye.