It wasn't so much the run that wore Marcos out, but he could use some time to recharge after releasing that much energy. He can defend them if needed, but he's hoping that the mob will get distracted by the actual threats to the village if they just hide out for a while. Once they've got the bookcase in place, he stands to the side of a window shade to peer out into the street, wedged against the wall in a way that shows... yes, he's done this before.

"More often than you'd think." He stays there, where he can see if anyone happens by while staying mostly out of sight, but turns to him once he doesn't immediately after them. "I uh— used to help run a network that provided refuge for... people who look like you. We didn't have a lot of success swaying public opinion."

That last remark is more than a little bitter. They failed, and by the time he came here they were trying to rebuild from nothing, for a second time. It's disheartening to see the same thing happening here. He saw a hint of it in Taravast, but this is the first time he's had flashbacks to the kind of things that constantly broke out back home.

"I'm Marcos, by the way." He looks him over briefly, but he doesn't seem to be traumatized or hurt. Might as well do introductions while they have the time. "I don't think I've seen you around."