The closer she got, the surer she was that this stranger was, indeed, wearing Errol's jacket. And, she noticed, he moved like Errol, too. There was in him the same caution, underlying strength, and an air of authority worn like skin. Were their features not so dissimilar, Beauty would've imagined them to be brothers.
She stuck close to the odd tree or bush between herself and the man in that dark suit, trying her best to keep her footsteps quiet -- but sneaking up on people had never been a skill she'd learned. When the man paused and tugged on gloves, she took the chance to move closer. They weren't too far apart now -- just a few feet. But she hadn't expected him to turn. When he did, Beauty scampered to a nearby tree and slid behind it.
With her back up against the bark, she held her breath and waited, hoping that she made it there before he'd seen her.