*Sways on his knees, his mind still somewhat blown by everything...He is suddenly prompted out of his reverie by a familiar thought-speak voice. He looks up, all eyes finally focusing on the andalite helping him up.* <Applix!> *he grasps a supporting arm gratefully and makes his way back to his hooves.* <By the moons it's been ages!> *the scene with the Ellimist somehow drifts to the back of his mind, as if his thoughts were somewhat influenced by something beyond himself. He remembered, he would never forget, but perhaps the Ellimist was helping him to push the thoughts back so that he could digest them later at his own pace without completely destroying his mind.*
*he eye-smiles as he makes contact with Applix, now turning to face him. He grasps Applix's forarms and nods, glad to be reunited with yet another old friend.* <Thank you, I appreciate it. I believe I am fine, I'm afraid I experienced a temporary lapse in thought...we've had some very grandiose happenings as of late.> *looks around with his stalk eyes and sees that the danger has passed. He allows his silver fur, tail-blade, and hooves to revert to their normal colors, resuming his regular andalite form. His senses become dampened and his relation to time grows again, but he can feel that he has retained some of the Silver Blade senses even in this form. He was changed, that much was certain.*
<What brings you here Applix? I must say it is a wonderful pleasure to have you around again. I had thought this place gone and forgotten, but I'm so glad I was wrong. It seems that we are drawn here by some inexorable force.> *he grins with his eyes again, and his eyes grow distant for a second as he recalls the episode with the Ellimist briefly.* <So many of us are here, and injured at that. Just like old times I suppose.>
>>Seran<<
*some of his host's senses return, and he hears some strange noises coming from nearby. He cracks open his eyes and sees that he has been piled amongst so many hork-bajir, obviously thought dead. He rouses his host's motor-skills and pulls himself from the disturbing pile of dead controllers, not caring where he places his blades...the corpses wouldn't feel anything. He drags his prone body across the floor, it seems his bleeding has stopped, and he pulls his host's still out-of-sorts body to a hallway and down it, seeing an open door. He pulls himself into a dark storage room by his arm-blades, his host's legs still not functioning properly. He pulls a broom from the wall and uses it to push the door shut behind him. He rests his body back to the floor, content that he is safely hidden in order to repair his host's body. This would take some time and effort, but he couldn't drag himself all the way back out to his ship. He mutters to himself in the darkness.* "I will have you Myitt, and your little rebel band, mark my words..." *he allows his host to lose consciousness again, only partly conscious himself, helping to direct the Hork-Bajir's healing efforts.*
