Lauralae is not inclined to simply give up; it seems silly for her to give into a threat in the middle of nowhere over nothing. There's a sharpness to the way her eyes narrow, something dangerous, something a little awkward - but she stops herself from lashing out, from wanting to rush forward and do something to defend herself. She will not put herself in harms way if it can be entirely avoided. She might be able to survive a fight, but it would cost her a great deal.

Slowly, carefully, she adjusts her weight and moves, wiggling just a little before she settles back on her own hind legs, careful. She cannot hold her form for too long and she knows that makes this all the more dangerous - that she might turn back into a person and be even more at risk. She cannot give this up, even as her head tilts, her eyes careful, unthreatening. More curious than ready to attack.

Above her, Rav'ahm caws, soft and sure, a warning - another bird, perhaps, or another animal. She cannot turn to look now.