The child writhed in her arms, gripped by fever dreams. Teyla tightened her grip, squinting through the rain as she ran. The Mongarans were a peaceful people, among Teyla's favorites, though they had nothing to trade with. The only resource they could boast was in numbers, which would soon be depeleted by the culling.
Trails of people followed her, slipping and sliding in the mud, but Teyla remained sure-footed. It would not be the first time so many lives depended on her skill. The more she could lead into the caves, the fewer would be taken by the Wraith. It was good she had come here today.
When the hive arrived, the ships and lasers drowned out all other noise. Drenched in rain and hearing the sounds of dozens of Mongarans disappearing behind her, Teyla could do nothing but keep running, determined to save at least the child she held. The caves came into sight. She did not know how many remained behind her. She ran.