[center][color=917655][h1]Estal Webb[/h1][/color][/center]

Her head throbbed mercilessly, pounding as she hunched forward, her vision blurry and unfocused. Pooling sweat dropped from the tip of her nose and onto her tattered trousers as clumps of hair, soaked, remained glued to her skin. Whether caused by the ever-growing heat, her unwavering desperation to escape from this god-forsaken place, or perhaps even both, she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t really sure of anything any more. One thing was certain, though, was that she felt sick. Utterly, sick.

Her hands were tightly bound against her back, digging painfully into a small mass of bruises that had accumulated on her side. The result of being manhandled and shoved onto a ship like cattle, no less. But... [i]why wasn’t it healing?[/i] She raised her head slowly, gazing over the several dozen people surrounding her. They must have been blocking their powers, somehow. Estal tussled against her restraints, fidgeting and pulling at them, all to no avail. 

[i]Bastards.[/i] 

The sound of footsteps caught her attention, being the single most interesting thing she’d heard for hours. What followed was basically a repetition of what she had already been told; sent to an island called Arkos, go to Site Borea, daily supply drops, escape warning, and oh yes, a meaningless insult thrown in. How exciting.

A sudden shudder followed by a buzz stirred her alert as light poured through the declining ramp. What proceeded was a clumsy stampede as everyone was shoved off and onto the sand below. It took a few moments to collect herself, adjust to the new, harsh lighting and scramble onto her feet as the rest of the superhumans bulldozed over her. She was dazed, almost unaware as her restraints released and fell to the ground. 

Hastily, she clawed at her shirt, pulling it slightly to reveal a meagre clump of bruises. It was already starting to heal. [i]Thank God.[/i] She sigh, releasing the fabric from her grasp. At least she had her powers back. [i]Wait, powers?[/i] Estal looked around skittishly, never before had she been so close to this many superhumans. If she’d got her powers back, then so had they. She knew she had to get away from the crowd, reciting the place they were told to go; Site Borea. 

Estal started to walk away, stumbling across the sand. [i]Where the hell's Site Borea?[/i] She tried searching the area, but it all looked the same. They couldn’t have given them a map, maybe? What were they supposed to do? She could feel herself panicking, her breaths becoming shallow and fast. Quickly, she stopped, grasping what little dignity and self-control she had left in an attempt to calm herself down. It was useless wondering in any old direction, she had to think of a plan. She had to ask someone for help. Anyone. 

Now slightly more relaxed, she scanned the area for someone who looked like they could be helpful. It wasn’t long before she spotted a figure, sitting near the edge of what seemed to be a forest. Obviously they weren’t on the ship, so they must know where she had to go. Surely.

Estal began to trek towards the figure, acutely aware of her own anxiety building up. She could see the woman clearly now, only being just a distance away. Estal felt slightly intimidated, and frankly, fearful. Who knew what some of these superhumans were capable of? 

With a half-hearted stutter, Estal finally spoke. [color=917655]“Erm, hey. I, er...”[/color] She stopped, pointing towards the crowd of new arrivals. The woman probably knew where she’d come from, of course. [color=917655]“I, er... Site Borea?”[/color] Her attempt to contain her nervousness was poorly executed, resulting in a utterance of awkward gestures. She wasn’t one to articulate herself well with strangers, however, she’d never been completely lost for words like this before.