...and saw that the smattering of refugees inside the shelter had grown exponentially. Many were keeping to themselves, setting up tarps, blankets, and futons, or quietly entertaining themselves if they had already done so, but a lot of them were still wandering about, confused. To make matters worse, what older Boarders Edward could see were quietly chatting among themselves, paying no mind to the hushed chaos around them.
Edward limped through the crowd, looking for something to stand on. His left knee had been broken and set poorly when he was about 5, and being thrown to the pavement by a troll hadn't helped it one bit. He finally found an empty soapbox almost directly in the middle of the crowd, probably the work of the Ironic Overpower. He kicked it a bit to the left, felt pain shoot through his leg and his side, and decided it was good where it was. He stood on it and whistled for attention.
It wasn't very noisy, and everyone's attention turned to him immediatly. He paused a second, coughed, and winced in pain from the movement. Finally regaining his composure, he began adressing the crowd. "First order of business. Does anybody have something I can use as a crutch?" An AK-47 flew out of the crowd, and he caught it awkwardly. He disconnected the ammo, put it in his pocket, and leaned on the gun. "Thank you, I guess. Second, everyone get out of the way of the door. A whole bunch of Ypurs are going to be coming through that door, and if you don't all move right now someone's going to get trampled. Okay, good... good... that's fine. Does anybody have any chalk?" A pack of chalk followed the AK. "Alright, very good. I need...six volunteers to take some of the chalk and draw, let's say, a four-by four grid of streets on the floor like a city block, centered on this box. They have to be at least big enough for two Ypurs to walk side-by-side." Boarders scrambled forward for the chalk, and began ordering others around.