Neblae lead her mount through the ruined buildings. She wasn't sure how to get to the crash. She went into several blind alleys, closed with collapsed building, and debris. Luckily she had the landmark of the giant cone-flower tree to lead her on. She rounded a corner and there it was. It looked smaller than she thought. A small grass-fire was sputtering out, set by the thrusters. Ahrini's strength was spent. She had gotten as far as she couuld from the crash-site before she couldn't go any further. She lay on her side and felt nauseous. She saw a figure sneaking up on her out of the setting sun. She knew she didn't have long to live. Neblae wasn't sure what she should do. She had never seen a freshly crashed vehicle before. The hot metal creaked and popped as she slid around it, nervously. She approached the downed pilot and crept closer. A piece of wreckage fell from the foliage of the Turig tree, on whose giant roots the cockpit had come to rest on. It landed with a thump in the long grass twenty feet away. Neblae jumped and her Garundal kept trying to pull away from where she was leading. Neblae was sure that the figure was a Trow like she, or some kind of machine-thing. It looked like machine parts were sticking out of it's head. It might be a mask. She wasn't sure. The figure twitched and the hand clenched as the dying woman moaned. Neblae crept forward and put down her spear. The hand moved and pushed off the headset, and pulled off the breather mask. Ahrini had one eye swollen shut and was bleeding from the nose and mouth. The prone woman gasped, looking at Neblae. Ahrini whispered, "Who are you? What city do you belong to?" Neblae blinked and answered, "Since you are a woman, I'll tell you my name. It's Neblae. I belong to myself. No one owns me. I am free. Are you a slave?" Ahrini smiled bleakly, and smelled the fresh grass and the large flowers spilling the smell of life into the twilight skies. Ahrini whispered, "No. No longer. Now I am free. Ahrini...my name. Was slave to city 64. Nova Paradisio. New paradise for humans only. We were born to serve them. My last moments are mine. Mine." Neblae checked the prone woman over. The woman's abdomen was rigid. Neblae wasn't sure what that meant, but she knew it wasn't good. A rustling in the bushes made Neblae jump up and grab up her spear. A male figure, no taller than she, came out of the underbrush. "Aw, hell. Someone beat me here." Neblae stayed poised to attack if he was dangerous. Media is Poser 6. More to come! ^__^