Bolts of panic struck out the placid smile on Cressila's face at the mention of turmoil on the sands, she angled forward, wanting to absorb every grim detail. Liam didn't specify, but potentially it could be Her desert under attack. The data suggested rebels from another faction, and if that wasn't horrid enough, the operations were sourced from either of the two 'junkyard' nations. Those who CHOSE to live in Australia or Africa were people who abided by a completely different set of rules, ethics even.

Travelling along her spine and causing the muscles to seize, the electric sensation forked out, touching her forehead like a hot poker. A hand flew to her chest, coaxing the rigid heart beneath it to beat again. At the border, warfare was not foreign, but it was the ambiguity of this situation that worried her and the concept of hellish armies emerging from the wastelands. The part of her brain still capable of logical function rode on instincts, seeding within her an urgent need to seek out the situation at home.

She chuckled to herself at that thought, "Home."

The concept of belonging somewhere had evaded her for as long as she could remember, even in times of happiness. It's ironic how it only registers when that particular place is in danger.

Within a minute of the presentation's close, Cressila was on her feet and out the door, excusing herself politely. Frenzied footsteps carried her towards the barracks; easy passage until she hit the common area, where every other inch was punctuated by a large biomass almost knocking her two feet in the opposite direction. Over her shoulder, she could see the impossibility of trying to reverse and take an alternate route. Clearly, those who remained had embraced the holiday mood; dawdlers, loiterers and idlers congregated wherever space allowed, reducing the wide hallway to thin, snaking tube. She squeezed and swayed, was pushed and almost pummelled, on her expedition beneath the canopy of noise and ale.

Taking handfuls of loose hair, she sighed in exasperation at the sluggish queue lined outside her living quarters. She ran inventory through her mind, taking note of what was needed for the trip ahead, dreaming up possible scenarios playing out in the desert, which only increased her angst furthermore, until the shuffling wall of one-way foot-traffic eventually delivered Cressila to her door.