"We're making a run for it, sounds like," she said casually, adjusting the weapons on her belt. "We have to leave pretty soon, though."
She opened her mouth to reply before Penelope's voice rang out. "Gather your things! We're getting out of here."
Every one of the injured had been picked up, but Poppy was looking down at the two still bodies, her brow furrowed. Their eyes were closed, both their mouths slightly open. They could have been sleeping. Poppy bit her lip before kneeling down next to them, gently pulling their hands away from their wounds and resting them on their stomachs, folded patiently. She was quiet for a moment before turning to roll up the mats.
He frowned slightly, but knew at the time there was nothing he could do about it. He stayed near her, just in case.
Poppy stood up and pulled out her dart gun as she headed for the door, glancing back only once at the two corpses before tightening her jaw. She found Francis almost instinctively, her eyes evidently distracted.
She laughed slightly, kissing his cheek. "Don't worry, my love. It wasn't your fault. They were just... they were good people. It's just sad."
Poppy was quiet, her eyes wide as she took in the death that her bomb had caused. Penelope nodded her agreement. "Yeah. At least there's that."
