On the other side of the bedroom door, Mathilda scurried around on tiptoe and undressed as she gathered a change of clothes. She thought how proud of her Ibo would be, had he known how quickly her anger had subsided once she had slammed the door in his face after her outburst. It was silly, really, to be angry. There were more important things to do. And expediency was of the essence. She kicked her old clothes to the corner and replaced them with a pair of BDU pants and a dark tank top, which she then wrapped in an olive green army jacket. She was already grimy, and sweat hung from her bangs as a reminder of the filth of the day. She cinched a bandanna around her forehead to keep the sweat from her eyes and then found her old jackboots and laced them up over her pants. Ibo would most definitely not be thrilled with her current intentions.
The thrill and excitement of the day's events, of saving those elephants, had given her an incredible surge of bravado and pride. She knew what she had to do. She was not done helping them. She had the strength to stand up for those that didn't, to help those that couldn't. She grabbed the camera case, slipped the strap around her neck, and shimmied out the open window.