[center][h2]PFC James Hunt|Le Haye Sainte[/h2][/center]

James spoke up quickly when the racist gearhead ran in and waved vaguely for introductions. "PFC James Hunt, attache from the Gallian Army." One of the new people went to speak and Jame shook his head. "Don't ask, it's not much of a story." He wasn't about to confirm the suspicions of the other squad mates that he'd pissed off someone with pull, he actually enjoyed the thought that they wondered why he was actually there. Still, best he neither confirmed nor denied. So with that settled, he dug into his stew, only eating about half of what the Sarge had given him before standing and offering the Sarge the rest of his. "Not too hungry, Sarge, but it was a good stew. I'll go walk the perimeter." Turning, he limped over to his rifle and the damaged sniper rifle, putting his pack against the latter to mark it as his, then headed for the door with his scout rifle in hand when another new arrival asked what they could do.

"How about you join me on the perimeter? Some of the Imps got away last night, so there's a chance we got Imps marching this way now." He didn't openly say it, but he did look at Glaive from the corner of his eye. [i]Bull shit she didn't have a shot, she just didn't take it. And now we're compromised. Wonder if she thought of that...[/i] It wasn't worth overthinking on, chasing them would have been a waste of time and probably would have cost them the lives of two squad mates, especially since every one seemed OK with leaving Lilly pinned to the wall like she was. "Well, ya comin'?"