Wrattleham

Well, underneath the mutations the Wrattlers seem to be mostly human, though of different ethnicities. It's an unfamiliarity with people that fly that leads the finger-bearded guard's caution. After a few moments of Xeni making no threatening moves, the rifle is lowered- though not put down or holstered. If he decides to set fire to the farm and the people in it, the gun could be raised and fired reasonably easily.

There is a door Xeni can use! Two doors. He can either use the hatch on the roof next to a currently-unmanned rocket projector or he can use the door at the top of a storey and a half's worth of rickety ladder, which provides the way up used by... Well, everyone who comes up here, actually. In Xeni goes, opening the door and being... Very nearly ignored. The Mayor is shouting at his daughter, who is simultaneously shouting back and barking instructions into a speaking-tube. The Mayor wants to get the Town to go through the mist, see the Saint so they can figuratively bow down before her, and the radio-operator is trying to explain that the engineers aren't actually doing what she's telling them to and the guards aren't close enough to a speaking-tube to order to intervene.

The navigator, with his half-globe (the Northern Hemisphere) hat, does turn to Xeni. "Hello. Um, we're also going. I'm not sure where, my maps aren't great. I'm Mark, the Navigator. There's, uh, stuff going on now. So I hope you don't want to talk to the Lord Mayor. He's, uh, not being listened to." The glassy boy with stars floating amidst the muscles visible through his skin sounds a little nervous, though at least the glass that is the surface of his body proves flexible enough for him to move.