Xandul
Walking behind the scuttling carriage, he wondered for the umpteenth time why he was needed to walk while his master rode. Before the carriage, a blueblood would be walking as well. Certainly, is she wished to be left alone by outide forces on this trip, it would be far less conspicuous if it were only the carriage. Right? But the yellow did not question the violet. He merely walked as he'd been ordered to. This path was an off-road one through the woods. The hope was that they would run into no trouble on their way. Despite his doubts tactically, the journey would, at the least, allow him some exercise outside of his master's hive and it was certainly better than doing chores. It was because of that that he didn't even think about complaining. Even if doing so would have negative effects regardless. Besides walking, there wasn't much left to do. He was allowed his glaive in this instance, carried and leaned on one shoulder, since he was a guard here and now. What he needed to guard against was unknown. It always was. Still, he was aware of his surroundings, glancing around every so often but he saw nothing conspicuous. Suddenly, he heard everything. At the initial crack, his instincts tuned him behind, eyes raised to what he might have assume to be a blur of darkness in the trees. Raising his glaive defensively, he processed what he knew after the telltale thump. Ravere was dead. He had failed. Soon after, Xandul understood his exposure and knew he could not fight against an unseen sniper. Hefting his glaive, Xandul slid it quickly into his strife deck. Turning, the yellowblood ran. If he were to be killed by bullet here then so be it, but this lowblood would not wait around for death. As he reached the trees, Xandul began to realize that he was not yet truly free.