Enjuta had finished watching the raid, and instead wandered off into the back alleys, away from the scene. Although this seemed to happen often, he wondered of life without these kind of oppressors. Hah, never gonna happen. For all he cared, he was never really a part of much of this- just a ghost, running scared. As long as he kept his head down and mouth shut, like he had been, it would all be fine. Eventually, he would die, and this would all be over. A bitter-sweet embrace, really. He decided to make his way home, shutting himself away. Well, for now, anyway.