If there's one thing that Hales are good at...it's glares. And Cora's, though different than her brothers....if she actually has one, is particularly potent. She doesn't pretend to hide the glare on her face, or the distrust written all over. She's not one to trust people in the calmest of circumstances, let alone when she's being hunted down. Was her family really killed by hunters? That's got to be a a dramatically ridiculous glitch...it has to be....

But the thoughts, the memories are there, all the same. She can't fight the instinct to run. It's too strong, and fear is the main fuel. She doesn't want to find out what's going to happen if she's caught. She doesn't know what she did wrong. Probably nothing from what she's gathered about this place.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she knows that innocent people don't run, but terrified little girls with no one and nothing....well, they do. And no matter how much logic dictates the memories she has are dramatic and unlikely...she can't shake them. So, staring at the blond, Cora can't help but fight the urge to let herself drop just to get away. The problem is that she's not making any sense. There wasn't a demand to give up, and there wasn't even a threat.

Cora's brows furrowed a bit, her grip tight and her body poised to act at any second (if needed). Who the hell was Sydney Bristow? "What are you talking about?" Cora finally spat out, moving ever so slightly downward, not quick to trust anyone...and determined not to give into manipulation via confusion. "Who the hell is Sydney Bristow and what does she have to do with me?" The young woman demands the answer, still half ready to flee completely.

Cora never was one to sit down and watch movies....or TV....whoops?