She can't, as she's in a cage. A very small cage, made of branches lashed together with leather bindings. There was barely enough room for her to raise her head, and when she moved, something sharp poked her in the arm. If she looked closer, many of the branches were covered in thorns about an inch long.

She looks around in confusion.

Beyond the bars, several mud hits sat in no particular arrangement around a large fire pit. The squat, ugly little creatures scampered to and fro around the camp, fighting, arguing, or gnawing on bones.

She watches them, unable to do much else.

One of them, shorter than its fellows and wearing a muddy red vest, saw that she was awake. With a hiss, it scuttled up to the cage and thrust its spear through the bars.

She flinches away from it.

It was about to rush up and stab her through the bars on the opposite side before a voice said, "Greertig, stop pokin' the meat. Ain't no good if all the blood runs out." The voice came from a second, taller creature

She curls into a ball, scared.

The two went towards the fire pit, squabbling."If you're going to cry," murmured a familiar voice at her back, "please do it quietly. Goblins can smell fear. They will only torment you more if you give them a reason." Grimalkin!

This doesnt stop her from crying.