She heard the crunch of something against the ground, a dull flap in follow-up. Heel, toe, heel, toe. Heavy. Wanda's eyes startled from her daze as a lifetime of living as a vagabond and, recently, a superhero pulled her attention up and forward. They were wide with fear, anxiety gripping every muscle tensely. One hand pressed forward in protection, a misty scarlet beginning to dance through her fingers as her eyes flashed a mirroring hue. Wanda stepped back, instinct, and the intense distress caused her abilities to lash out as any loose dust and pebbles scattered away from her feet.
"What...is this place?" She asked, voice thick with her Sokovian accent. Wanda made no effort to steel her voice, the tremble in her timbre all-too apparent. No, attempts at bravado were not her particular forte. Reason and Steve's training would tell her not to show fear, not when facing the gaping maw of a wolf and not when facing the smile of a gentlemen. You could never be sure which one you were looking at.