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As they came to a halt and Viera took up stance in front of her, Aza folded, holding herself up with her hands on her knees as she gasped for air. They hadn't even gotten very far, but she felt like she'd been running for an eternity. Sweat beaded up on her brow and rolled down her face. 

When Viera drew her sword and made an attempt at warning their pursuer, she grimaced, reaching for Viera but not quite grasping her. Her eyes peered out from behind the cyan haired woman, locking onto Shiara again. Azarni groaned again. She wanted to vomit. Even if they got away now, how long would it be before they found them again? 'Marlowe' and his friend here were obviously well known nuisances to the Order's cause, and there was no way she could turn back and return home now.

Everything seemed so damn bleak and hopeless right now, there were less and less options for her as each second passed. The heat of the battle, the frantic emotions of those around her, and the terror of being chased were catching up with her. The psionic energy was still surging very much alive within and around her, making her head pound. 

Should she make another attempt at running? Leave Viera behind when she'd put her neck out for her, or risk getting tagged herself? "[i]Please..[/i]" she huffed, exhausted.