Barefoot and soaked to the bone you join the mass of people gathering at the gate. The speech around you is odd, germanic sounding you guess, it's not asian or middle eastern but it could be slavik... honestly you don't know. It's definitely not English and you're pretty certain it's not spanish, you've heard plenty of that. But the converations tend to become hushed as you draw near groups of people. They begin whispering and staring at you. You pick out the leaves and branches in your hair and try to comb it out with your fingers the best you can. Keeping silent, you hope there are enough people that you disappear in the crowd but a guard makes eye contact with you. Oops, you should have been staring at the ground. He starts working his way through the crowd towards. You can remain calm and pretend you belong, or run.

I'm not sticking around for this, Run!

I've done nothing wrong, I will remain here and press on with the crowd.