He looks down at her in his arms, then back at the barracks. It takes a few moments before some part of his mind registers the white streaks (streaks, not the ribbons) in her hair as odd. And it is odd, because she's still so little, she shouldn't--
There are shouts; men with spears, with bows, pointed at them. He doesn't dwell on it any further before he takes off again. To the city if they can, but if they can't...
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He looks down at her in his arms, then back at the barracks. It takes a few moments before some part of his mind registers the white streaks (streaks, not the ribbons) in her hair as odd. And it is odd, because she's still so little, she shouldn't--
There are shouts; men with spears, with bows, pointed at them. He doesn't dwell on it any further before he takes off again. To the city if they can, but if they can't...