Ignoring the screaming ache in her knee as she bounds and weaves around fallen rubble that litter the streets throughout the city, Rey flees. Faster than she should be with her injuries. The taste of iron from the blood in her mouth is still fresh and unforgettable.

Quick to stumble to a stop, she skids to the right, towards the remains of an unused shop that looks as though an explosion had taken out the entrance of it.

What would seem to be leading to herself to a corner is something else entirely. She digs through the shelves, finding a pile of wrapped up cloth in the back room.