Kayla staggered deeper into the forest, roughly alongside the other pair. It was all she could do to keep one foot in front of the other. She was drained within and battered without, the constant pull on her magics, combined with the bolts with which she had brought down the mine had taken her to the last reserves of her inner strength. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept, only vaguely aware that her body clock seemed to be entirely out of time with the rhythm world as the early morning mists were lit by the freshly risen sun. The storm elf checked her leg again through the slash of her leggings. A small trickle of blood still oozed down the back of her thigh, though the makeshift bandage torn from her sleeve seemed to have staunched the worst of it. She glances around at the others in her party, noting that Ayesha was still needing to be carried and that Zaer himself was resting from time to time.<br/><br/>She pondered the pair a moment, a tired mind not really up to the task of incite. All the same she wondered about the fire elf. He had certainly been useful in the tunnels. She doubted that the pair of women could have escaped without him, even if they had found a way through the cell doors. But could he be trusted? What were his own motivations? And why had he been a political prisoner in the first place? Kayla didn't know, but she was certain that she hadn't heard the truth yet. She eyed the way the Light elf was nestled in his arms with a tremble of what must be worry inside. The two appeared to be becoming closer at least. This seemed to bother her in a fuzzy way she could not define. She supposed it was a guarded response to becoming so close with strangers in the heat of battle. She did feel a link with this pair of fellow misfits. It was something she had experienced with comrades-in-arms on the battlefield many times before, a kind of kinship with those who have shed blood and triumphed with you. After placing their lives in the care of strangers, many of her troops had no qualms about placing their bodies into their arms later, with mixed results. Mentally shrugging in a way which her body was too tired to do as she staggered on, Kayla let her thoughts drift without really wanting to follow any particular lines or reason, simply following the distant sound of a stream.<br/><br/>She gave the first real smile she had managed since the before entering the escape tunnels as they came to the bottom of a slope and stepped from the trees. Where they stood was a narrow stream of what looked like clean water, fed from a deeper pool a stone's throw upstream. She breathed the clean air deeply, savouring the peace of the glade. The whole area was hidden in a wrinkle of land which made it difficult to detect from any distance, unless you happened to be close enough or sensitive enough to catch the sound of the water. Of course the trackers from Stormhome would have no trouble following their progress eventually, but Kayla expected the confusion in the tunnels and her demolition of the exit to give them at least a day's head start, more than enough time to reach the nearest border or at least to lose themselves.<br/><br/>The storm elf dropped her small pack by the stream, carefully laying Maelstrom down beside it, and began to follow the stream up to the pool. She limped her way past a combination of fallen bank and an animal dam of some sort which appeared to have allowed the pool to form. She glanced into the crystal depths, seeing a smooth, if stony bottom, but no predators of any kind. Suddenly she was aware of the grime which coated her. Her own blood and that of her enemies was crusted in places to her skin, along with dirt and dust from the tunnels. She must look quite the sight she supposed. By no means fussy about her appearance, Kayla did pride herself on at least being neat and clean even on the road, and this state of grime was more than she could bare. She undressed where she stood, stripping off armour, clothing and modest silk undergarments and leaving them in a pile as they fell. She paused but a moment to peel off the bandage with a wince. The wound was ragged as best she could see as she twisted, and still spattered with green lizardman blood. Suppressing a shiver, the nude elf untied her hair and dove into the pool with barely a splash as her lithe form sliced into the cold, still water with an inward sigh of relief.