[All they can do now is run. They've exhausted their ammunition, their Roly Polies - all they've left is a hard light blade that would be sufficient in close combat, but not with a child in tow. Thankfully, the number of active combatants in the battlefield have left gaps in the palisade curtaining the compound in.]
[A great round orb of one of those hard fruits with the furry shells - coconuts, people have been calling them, and it is strange to see a food item such as that being used as a weapon, when they'd spent such time harvesting from those groves near the temple - sails toward the pair of them, but the child diverts its path with a well-timed projectile. They cannot make evident their approval, vocally or otherwise, but they can continue to run.]
[And run they do. Skidding out beneath a gap in the spiked wood, the cratered and crushed wood left over from someone's earlier efforts to break in - successful, gauging by the way most of the wall has fractured away.]
[One of the last parting shots falls short and rolls dismally along the sand. It seems with so much fighting occurring within the compound itself, the monkeys cannot see the value in chasing after.]
[Good.]
[The Drifter keeps running, faster now without having to zigzag to compensate for the war-zone, chaining their dashes with a low swoosh of blink-swift motion.]
no subject
[A great round orb of one of those hard fruits with the furry shells - coconuts, people have been calling them, and it is strange to see a food item such as that being used as a weapon, when they'd spent such time harvesting from those groves near the temple - sails toward the pair of them, but the child diverts its path with a well-timed projectile. They cannot make evident their approval, vocally or otherwise, but they can continue to run.]
[And run they do. Skidding out beneath a gap in the spiked wood, the cratered and crushed wood left over from someone's earlier efforts to break in - successful, gauging by the way most of the wall has fractured away.]
[One of the last parting shots falls short and rolls dismally along the sand. It seems with so much fighting occurring within the compound itself, the monkeys cannot see the value in chasing after.]
[Good.]
[The Drifter keeps running, faster now without having to zigzag to compensate for the war-zone, chaining their dashes with a low swoosh of blink-swift motion.]