Tabulae shoved her face into dirt and mud. Even with her eyes clenched shut, the light still flashed behind her lids until it felt like it was drawing veins on the inside of her skull.
When she lifted her head, her vision swam, but she was one of the least affected.
She forced herself up at once and looked around, counting breaths, counting distance.
A dozen steps away, Youngbanners rolled on the ground, groaning, his flag sprawled beside him like a cut limb.
All around, people were doing the same. Crying. Cursing.
Tabulae's hands moved fast, snatching two, running from the crowd, and looking for a hiding place.
The flags were small. The pole was only as long as an adult's arm. The fabric was not a grand banner either.
It was only about the size of two heads stacked one over the other. Small enough to hide. Small enough to steal.
Tabulae did not want attention.
