Helena stepped forward and turned around.
She evaded the hand of a child who wanted her attention; it was a short boy of Arab appearance, almost seeming 9 years old; he had short-cropped dark hair and brown skin and his eyes were dark, his build thin and clothes some simply white robes. His bright eyes gazed up at her, face in wonder. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pocket watch of sterling silver, holding it out to her with the back facing her; his other hand retrieved forth a thin, black permanent marker and handed it over to her as well with pleading eyes. He spoke a few quiet words, not understood by Helena but obviously Arabic.
Elena sat at the edge of the roof, her legs dangling off of the edge. She held her guitar tightly as she tuned it absentmindedly. As she rested there her mind wandered to before the collapse. She thought about the times before a sad smile on her face as she did. After a while she raised her hands to the strings and began to play.
Shortly after Elena began to play, she heard a new noise from behind her, beautiful wind pipes melding into the tune and tone of her song. The serene notes hummed peacefully out from it, bringing forth a wave of strange calmness.
Alistair is also now out for a walk.
Walking about the camp in its usual shade, he spotted in the distance at the field a group of young boys playing some Football ((or soccer if ur amurican'.)); there was nothing much noteworthy to be seen from such a distance, only that they were fairly well-built boys of his age, simply kicking around a ball and running about
Nith walks around.
Walking about, Nith spotted the usual sights of civilians going about their refugee lives, and the occasional sight of children playing. However, as he rounded a corner, he saw to his side a living skeleton in dark robes, advancing towards him with a rattling walk. Nith may have heard of the skeleton; his name was Yorick, and he really was an undead, though that is as much as he knew.