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Damon struggled up and off Thuban, still holding the baby, although he was holding it very awkwardly; he did not seem to know where to put his hands. That, and the baby was still crying. "Look." He said, and then cleared his throat as he addressed the blonde. "Thanks. Can one of you hold... this thing? I'm not good with kids. Really." Girls were better with babies right? He thought, raising an eyebrow at Vallerite.

On second thought, Delphine was not good with kids. His gaze shifted to Thuban, also waiting for an answer regarding whether he knew anything about where they were exactly.

It was a very strange situation to be stuck in. He was with a girl that looked like she came from a circus, a boy who seemed to be dressed up for a toga party, and he was carrying a baby.

If he had things his way, he would not be carrying it for long. He probably was making it uncomfortable with the way he was holding it, anyway.

Sailor Thuban, who didn't particularly have any more experience handling babies than Damon or Valleriite, nonetheless grabbed the baby out of the girl's arms as soon as he'd finished brushing himself off from his fall. "What am I, stupid?" he said to her. "That's the last thing I need, you stealing starseeds from babies."

He cradled it away from her, taking a pair of steps backward. "I don't know anything more than either of you do," he said. "I was out patrolling, trying to protect Destiny City from scum like you, when -- this happened. For all I know it's some elaborate trick of yours. For all I know this isn't even a real baby, and is actually some kind of high-tech explosive you were trying to lure me in with."

Left unsaid was the fact that, if it was indeed a high-tech explosive, Sailor Thuban had, in fact, been effectively lured in.

"Branches don't just spontaneously break like that," he said, frowning. "I'd guess it's dead, or dying. I'd suggest you grab one or two of the jagged ones that fell," this was said over his shoulder to Damon, "in case you need to defend yourself. Stab her if she attacks you."

Thuban, meanwhile, was attempting to unbundle the baby to make sure it wasn't, in fact, a 'high-tech explosive.'

Sailor Thuban did not hold up well under torture. "Here," he said, holding the baby out towards Damon, "you take the baby and I'll handle weapons. It likes you. See if little Moses in the bulrushes has a name written on his gigantic cross or anything."

He held out the baby pretty insistently, looking a little awkwardly unsure what he'd do if Damon didn't comply. The baby was squalling. "It likes you," he insisted again, hoping this was true.

The baby giggled in delight when it saw Damon and reached out a chubby little hand in an effort to touch his face. Baby depth perception left something to be desired.

Secretly relieved to have the baby off her hands (only to return back to Damon's), she offered no protests upon the matter even when the senshi had rudely jerked the kid out of her hands.

And she had somewhat-expected, he didn't know s**t. That left them with back to where they started, nowhere.

And if things weren't worse enough, the senshi continued to add fuel to the fire with his constant insults. Gritting her teeth, she distracted herself by taking an undue interest in the baby's crucifix cross. "A crucifix." She said, with a blank stare. "And a perfectly normal one at that."

What part of this was important exactly?

"Montrose and Sons." Damon read off the the back as Vallerite turned it in her hands, squinting in the darkness to read properly. "I have no idea what it means. It's not like it's an address." Damon had never heard of Montrose & Sons anyway. He normally wouldn't have even bothered with shops that sold large wooden crucifixes.

"Okay," Sailor Thuban snapped back, "Solution: Montrose and Sons are woodcarvers or priests, whichever, but most importantly unless they're invisible or your new imaginary friends, they're not standing here, so if we want to ask them if they know who this baby belongs to, we're going to have to find them. It's getting late, the baby's -- do we even know if it's a boy or a girl, did anyone check? -- anyway, it's bound to get hungry soon, and you, I still don't trust you -- so my grand plan is that we follow the sunlight as long as we can until we find the nearest town, then we start asking people."

He didn't clarify 'asking people,' since it was comprised of far too many questions: where are we; what's going on; who are Montrose & Sons; whose baby is this; how did it get in a tree; what's with its cute but odd eyes; how can we get back home? Thuban didn't really adapt well to unfamiliar situations. He was a fairly driven, straightforward individual -- a situation with this many unknowns set his teeth on edge. What kind of 'figuring out' did the Negaverser expect him to do?

"I'm Sailor Thuban," he introduced himself mostly to Damon. The sailor soldier bent to retrieve some of the sturdier-looking pieces of wood, trying not to turn his back on Valleriite. He stood back up and looked at the baby again, partly to ensure the Negaverser still hadn't killed it, and partly to ensure it still wasn't a bomb.

He pointed with a stick toward the fading sun, away from their shadows, and gave Damon a questioning look. "Westward ho?" He waited.