Diana had been apprehensive, when she’d left the hotel today. And why wouldn’t she have been, considering that the last time she had left, Thor had been at her side, and he’d died for it? Diana was no coward, but after that, she’d stayed in the Crown Plaza until the cursed thing decided to move back to wherever it normally was. Scotland, she’d been told, only not truly Scotland. If Diana had rolled her eyes any harder, they’d have fallen out of her head, but that was neither here nor there. What mattered was that she had kept herself cooped up in the hotel for days, and even roller skating with Thor and planning to attend knitting group and attempts to be social could not change that fact.
She had never been meant to be caged, and so Diana must needs venture out. The woods seemed as good a place as any, and before the hotel had moved, she had been fond of walking through them anyway. She’d dressed for it, though these woods were hardly a jungle, so she’d worn simple sneakers and a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. A sweater, in case there was a chill here in Fake Scotland (™). She was quite pleased she was alone out here as she snorted at her own bad joke, but she stepped through the treeline into a clearing and realized she was not alone.
And so she watched, interested. Diana had never seen a lightsaber before, did not know that that was the word for it, but she had been trained with sword and shield and spear early in life. As early as she could force her mother to capitulate to her training, in fact, and Aunt Antiope had helped with that. So Diana understood formations, she understood footwork, and she understood that she could learn something here if she was smart enough to observe and do so.
After a time, though, it seemed a bit rude to simply be leaned against a tree, staring at a stranger, and so Diana stood up straight and cleared her throat, and stepped a bit closer. Not too close, though, because while she assumed he was friendly enough, there was always the chance that she was wrong. Another reason to stop and observe before she’d said anything, though she had not acknowledged that reason. “Hello,” she said softly, soothingly. It was just her habit, and she couldn’t quite help it. Diana rarely raised her voice, unless she was excited, which was not nearly the same as anger. “I’m Diana. What is that?” Ever succinct, Diana of Themyscira.