Azarnite's head jerked in Marlowe's direction when he appeared out of no where, scared out of her wits. Another one? No? The two [i]gentlemen[/i] with her seemed less surprised and more angry at his showing. A savior? The two orderlings looked to know him well, so perhaps he was a part of the resistance she'd heard of here and there. The heat and her dizzying panic made her vision blur. What was going to happen to her?

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It was just another normal day. Warm, the sun casting down its dwindling rays in the evening hours. Aza sat outside watching some of the children running about with a smile on her face. Motherly and kind, with no kids of her own, it was a common occurrence for many of the residents to bring their's to her when they had errands to run. Azarni always graciously accepted. Up until recently she had been valued and trusted, cherished even by some of the older townsfolk. 

There was always judgement when you fell out of the norm, however, and the petite lady had, unintentionally, done just that. 

While she leaned against a beam supporting the front of her house, looking out as one kid tagged another, her ear twitched some- the sound of mumbling voices. When she tore her blue eyes from the street to turn her head she found three of the less favored men in the town standing on the corner of her yard casting her their angry glares while they whispered among themselves. Drunks, troublemakers. Anger always stemmed from something you didn't understand, from a fear of the unknown. Confusion. 

Ms. Weaver never judged them. Never blamed them. She was just as confused and frightened as the rest of them. However, when she caught sight of one the young men's hands bouncing a decent sized stone up into the air and down again, her brow furrowed and she slowly rose up the post to retreat back inside. Before she could do so, before she really understood what was happening, the stone came hurdling toward her. It was a simple thing, really. One she could have avoided by stepping out of the way. All she did was think.

[i]Stop.[/i]

It did. Right before it tore back across the yard and struck the man and shattered his cheek.

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She never stopped scooting around the tree, picking up the pace some as Lathilos and Delios's attention was moved elsewhere. Hiding on the opposite side, she looked left and right, wondering what the safest route would be, if there was one to begin with. Her legs were shaking, threatening to give out from underneath her. Was there even an option in running? 

Another quake shifted the ground below her feet and she groaned. She could feel it, that energy, humming in her veins- feeding off of her fear and threatening to breach the surface.

Azarni took off, using the distraction as a loose opportunity to, at the very least, put some distance between herself and the three. Weaving through trees and bushes, hopefully giving the gun wielder something else to shoot at should he choose to turn on her again.