The fear that Dawn was among Liberty's forces was unnecessary. The girl carried the same haunted, hungry look as any true child of the wastes. Her clothes were terribly mismatched, swallowing up her frame and more. She was haggard. 

Of course, given the fact that so many of the faction's agents had learned to adopt the same weary apperance on missions, it could not necessarily be considered proof to some. 

She didn't reply to Vivian's question, the sound of it drowned out by the thud of Dawn's footfalls, and the blood thumping hard in her ears. The only thing she knew was that Vivian was a killer and a teleporter- and both were very dangerous breeds. Gritting her teeth, Dawn pushed further, closer to one of the small groups that had found themselves in the city. There were three, and not the most friendly themselves, if what snippets of thoughts she could catch from this distance were any indication.

Nevertheless, turning back now would mean facing her angered tail head-on. Dawn kept running.