Alpha Isaiah
Isaiah murmurs softly, head bowed.
Zire seems to have been the only one to have sustained any injury, his lip cut and bleeding, a bruise already forming on his left cheekbone. I'm not surprised, he would have put up a fight, whereas Isaiah would have been smart enough to know that moments like this require more thought then to merely lash out.
"Who are they?" I mouth.
"Rebels, I assume," Zire replies lowly, jaw settling into a firm.
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