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"Glad to see you made it, too. I left you alone for a bit and it doesn't look like you bled out any. I'm proud of you, dude." She leaned against the wall and folded her arms, getting to smile a little for a moment before Anguis asked about the War Babes. Her face tightened a little.

"For's off wherever doing whatever," she said, utterly dismissive and obviously not giving one singular s**t. "I'm guessing if she isn't screaming, she's fine. Aer's also off doing whatever, mainly being pissy about the purpleblood kid from the fight at HQ. Ras got involved, and I guess everything's settled down some. Again, if no one's screaming, then it's okay, and I didn't see any issues when I've motored about up here. It's a good view, don't you think? I'm up here cuz no one listened to me about how weird this village seems, so I've been trying to find out more stuff. So people are around but we're not really tight right now." Luxara shrugged it off, though kind of glowering off to the side as she did so.

Luxara sighed. "First the kid happened, and Aer flipped her s**t, and For was acting like it was no big deal and said you were a weenie for staying with the wagon so I was just like hey at least you came out unlike Vulpin who was a total no-show, so she got pissed about that for some reason. So she decided to be all 'yeah but what about Kur' so like! ******** her! ******** her for bringing him up and calling him my 'boyfriend'! And ******** Aer for bringing him up, too! Like, s**t, it hasn't even been longer than a night and I have to deal with this crap but they get to toss it back in my face?" She was letting herself rant and get pissed. They were almost public; a bad position for multiple reasons.

Luxara retreated to another hive, not wanting to let anyone else hear her go on.
It would also be nice to avoid letting many people see her shake, hear her voice crack, and notice that she was about to have another goddamn crying fit.

Tevini's explanation of the situation really only made it sound worse but Cerpin felt it was still to their benefit. It was the truth after all, their stories were matching up. Even if coming with the Royalists cast further suspicion on them that they were enemies, at least the Rebels had to give them credit that they weren't lying. He watched as the redblood pulled herself from his hold and bowed deeply, curls and apron drooping down into the swampy waters. Gritting his teeth at what he was about to do, he forced his body to bow down as well, mirroring Tevini.

"Please, give us a task to do. Any task to prove our intentions are good!" The two children didn't know how they were going to get out of here. Cerpin himself had essentially gone from being an unwilling minion of the Royalists to a chained slave of the Rebels in order to survive. While he wouldn't put it so dramatically out loud, there was a little inner turmoil over the matter. It didn't really matter that he and Tevini intended no harm to these trolls- all that mattered was if they could convince them of it. Hell, he didn't even know if it would be safe to leave this place at this point. Would the Royalists be able to figure out who had sided with the pinkblood, even unintentionally so, and call for their extermination?

"We'll find the springs, we'll haul out the bodies, clean the hives. Just don't chain her up too." His chin tilted back up to look at Rasali stubbornly. It was his job to protect the lowbloods he could, that came with his privilege he felt, not only from the chaotic seadwellers but anytroll that unfairly harmed them. Tevini had come to save him somehow and he would do the same for her. He could tell she was trying not to cry or shake from the stress and a flush of guilt coursed through him. This was her everynight, not only her but all the trolls under the pinkblood's banner. Trying hard not to get caught and culled for their blood or ideals.

He'd really had a much easier life than any of the trolls here, hadn't he?

Keionx Rutace
Has had better nights

Keionx had kept going as long as she could after the undead hoarde had attacked her, but even heroes had their limits. She had collapsed and Raptordad had taken over from there. He had brought them both here, to this village, to this place that could be sanctuary.

Keionx was not conscious for it. She looked pale and drawn and lacerated, as if she was already one of the daywalkers, save for the thready pulse that was visible in her neck, the faint rise and fall of her chest, and the subtle movements she made as she settled into wherever she had been dropped by Miache.

Maybe she would awake. Maybe she would be okay. But, judging from the blood that still trickled from her, and especially from her stomach wound, that was a very unlikely maybe. Keionx was a tough troll. There was a solid chance for her yet.

But it would be a better chance with help.

He really needed a rest after everything from tonight. Just somewhere nice to sit down, breathe for a bit, catch his breath... It would be perfect if he could find some clear water, too. Ugh, dreaming for nice things was no good.

Now that boulder just felt like a missed opportunity to rest his bum.

Reemus pressed on. Staying behind could be deadly; he had fought a drone before. There could always be more. Plenty of trolls deployed from the royalists still after the rebels. They wouldn't have any reason to take kindly to him after he had thrashed their commander, even bitten the bloke, and pounded a few drones before running out into this mucky place.

He huffed. There had to be an end to this. If there was an end to when they had to deal with Aendal trying to kill them deep underground, then above ground there had to be something, too.

A voice popped up. Loud, nearby. Frantic. He could've thought it was a trap, and probably should have, be the familiarity and the pitch was just too engaging. Also, Reemus was desperate to find anyone out in this bog after he had lost track of others.

He advanced further, almost running the best he could towards the voice, until he came upon a blueblood and an orangeblood, looking worse for wear. The blueblood was bleeding, and the orangeblood...was she? Was she even alive?

"Miache?" he asked, breathless. That troll of all people, dirty? Was he...? Which side was he on, even?

Stryke's mind turned wildly over the past few nights and what had happened. Under the light of the moon, his shadow darted through the wilds. The further north he traveled, the better. In the swamp he'd smelled the horrible scent of death and rot. Wailing moans had sent the yellowblood racing even faster than before. With his leg bandaged, he at least managed a quick hobbled run. His mind and body were exhausted; he'd more than reached his limit. Yet as he glanced skyward trying to look into the starry night above, he caught the light of something far different in the canopy then just the tangle of vegetation. Whatever it was, they all seemed out of place. Wait. Stryke was fairly certain those were buildings! They looked more like ruins to be fair, but what a curious find.

The yellowblood took a deep slow breath that he let out in a slow rush of air. At least he'd made it this far, despite everything that had happened thus far. Beads of sweat trickled down his neck, left forgotten as he pushed back stray strands of hair that had fallen from its hold. For a moment the yellowblood felt tightness in his chest. He shouldn't have been sneaking around but he didn't know what he'd actually stumbled on. Wild eyed and disorientated he quietly moved through the forgotten hidden village to see what if anything was here. He might have heard voices talking...he wasn't certain if they were friend or foe for that matter.

Stryke had survived every trial that had been thrown at him up until now, but truly he was only half there in the moment. He was almost more like a walking phantom himself. There was a hallow hole where his heart was supposed to be, and it thudded dully in his chest. Anger raised in his chest as he clenched back a swell of emotions. Now wasn't the time to let himself break down he had to keep moving. He fought with himself to keep calm, breathing slowly as he moved along quietly with only the soft shuffle of his boots occasionally.

Really, if he thought about it he was just being dramatic. At least he'd lived thus far...and the story of the rebellions future wasn't a closed novel. He sent a silent pray for every single member of the organization, his clenched jaw muscles working tightly even it made it ache.

Weakness was not affordable in this situation. He'd already failed enough for one night, being dead weight wouldn't help anyone. fate would find its way..right? He should go back, and keep looking for his team mates. If this village turned out to be nothing, he'd try and back track to see what he could find. Inwardly his thoughts turned dark. He wished for a silence button on his seething self-loathing, and ill contempt for his lack of being but there seemed to be no end to the reel. He didn't need anyone to see him like this. It was for the best he was alone; he wasn't some pathetic cry baby wiggler after-all.

Looking back over his shoulder he slowed to a halt, before his gaze traveled to the series of hives. After a few moments of hesitation he climbed up one of the series of old steps, on the old moss covered ladder. He was curious, despite his injuries. Perhaps he could find something of use, or a place to simply retreat from the swamp for the time being. The higher buildings could wait; he didn't have it in him to climb again. Instead, he started to lower his cloaks hood, before thinking better of it and leaving it as is.

Eyeing one of the lower buildings, he approached the structures to inspect it further. He was still unaware of the fate of most of the other rebels, and he found his pump biscuit was filled with doubt and fear for all of them, both young and old. Unknowingly, he'd stumbled upon his final destination amidst all the running. For now the yellowblood moved along.

His senses felt unnaturally heightened; earlier he'd felt a strange stirring in his mind he couldn't account for. It was almost like the mood of the swamp had put him on high alert, and his sense of danger and awareness had escalated to new heights. It wasn't like he saw anything or could hear anything at that given moment, it was just the way everything felt. It was down right distracting Stryke had to admit. Honestly, it didn't even make sense when he thought about it. So, instead of trying to further analyses it he pushed the thoughts back, ignoring the nagging sensation for now.

Surely it was just the stress of being on the run he told himself.

All Stryke could say for certain was Sarcel in her act of kindness had given him hope when he thought he had none left. He wouldn't waste it so easily again. He prayed she was safe, and no harm or foul would come of her not taking him in. That went for every single rebel out there in the swamp, he held out hope each would be spirited to safety in due time.

Miache Gahiji
With Keionx - Lookin for some help

Ugh....he felt like hell....and he knew his lusus didn't have any more supplies on him. Usually his lusus carried several 'just in case' items, but after the rebels set off a detonation he'd premtively tidied himself up. If he'd known about the swamp he would've saved more than a spare pair of gloves. He looked down at his hands and cringed. They were muddy, bloody, and ripped...a clear indication of the rest of him, he was sure under the layer of blood his own skin would look rather hagard as well.

His eyes wandered over Keionx's sleeping form, frown still firmly in place. Daywalkers. Why had she dragged his a** into DAYWALKERS of all things? The two had only barely made it out alive, but neither looked like they'd gotten off scott free. Keionx's stomach wound from Kursha had her almost bleeding out, his throat (The most clothing-free and easiest to maul flesh) had ben clawed and bitten into. The two were a bit worse for wear. He moved over her, feeling for her pulse. It was weak....but she was still alive. He removed his vest and bundled the article of clothing, placing it beneath her head as a make-shift pillow. Perhaps he could find someone or some sort of medical supplies.

"Is--" his breath rasped and caught in his throat. Shouting between himself and Kei earlier hadn't gone too well. "Is anyone around?" he called, raising his voice as best he could. "We have injured!"