As the smaller group fought their way toward the outpost, John was moving across the wasteland at a pace that forced even the elite Bulltors to strain their muscles to keep up.
His eyes remained fixated on the map, following the steps of his friends. He was following every development of the battle at the Hiveminds border, his heart rate finally slowing as he watched the green dots on his map reach the abandoned walls.
"Smart fellows indeed," John commented quietly.
The Bulltors running alongside him exchanged silent, uneasy glances. Throughout the journey, John had been a fountain of unpredictable and weird comments. He had started the march with frustrated, envenomed curses directed at Lanmar, but as time passed, his tone had shifted into something almost optimistic.
"Is everything alright?" Blakar asked, noticing the way John's shoulders had finally lost their tension.
