The crowd of Bluechilds dropped Peter to the ground with a hard thud and Peter's eyes faced the sky where he could see the surface pod flying through the atmosphere. The metal crashed against his heart. Peter winced at the god horrifying pain the metal was making against what remained of his heart. Screwitscrewitscrewitscrewitscrewit screw Sarris, Peter thought, opening his eyes to see the figure of the surface pod vanishing out of sight.
"Ow." Peter clenched at his chest.
They spoke in a strange tongue.
Unfamiliar.
Odd.
Strange.
They tilted their heads at him then shared glances.
"What are you staring at?" Peter asked, as one of them looked over toward him with a smile.
One of the Bluechilds picked up a rounded rough edged gray rock.
"Oh no," Peter said. "Not that!"
And then they hit him at the head making his world go dark.