Rebel gave a thumbs up from down below.

"...Are any of you capable of thinking things that aren't completely asinine?"

"No, I just think it can wait until we're not all under constant threat of being brutally murdered."

"Whatever. I'm heading out. /Some/ of us have work to do."

Rebel awkwardly strums the guitar a few times before setting it down. Hopefully no one saw that.

"You know, my people like meat and I heard that people sometimes ate birds in the old world."

"The more you speak, the more justified I feel in hating you."

"Wh...You almost got yourself killed to get a sword...?"

Rebel rushes over to guide her safety into a sitting position, her haste betraying her cold tone. "It's like you're all competing for to --

--see who has the most ridiculous priorities...Sit still. I'll get a medkit."

The ex-bandit didn't waste time. She quickly returned and silently got to work repairing her injured ally...or was 'friend' the better --

--word? The conflicting thoughts only added to the air of frustration that seemed to follow her like a cloud.

Rebel twitched at the name. She'd never met the woman in person but her mobs of officers were certainly one of the many sources of the --

--aforementioned frustration. She finished her work and glared quietly at Rogue for a moment before cursing under her breath...and --

--carefully setting the sword somewhere where Chicken would hopefully not find it.

A dozen more allies appear and tackle Chicken.

"I hate."

"The fuck's a grilled cheese?"

"If two mutants were on the throne and one hit the other with a rock would that be fucked up or what?"

"I'm disappointed it's taking this long..."