"Alright. What do you want? Because quite frankly, I do not wish to be near someone like you alone for too long or else I'll find myself growing too annoyed."
Isaac grimaced momentarily, then nodded his head, and bowed momentarily. "As much as it pains me to do so, I would like to apologise for my earlier actions, specifically the intro. Which, I am quite assured, neither of us will forget for a while." He looked Oliver in the eyes, and sighed. "You look like my father. Alright? I hope that's a suitable explanation. To be honest, he was a complete ass. I doubt that you are, but know that I will never be able to treat you like a normal human being, unfortunately, because of...what he did."
'Isaaaaac!'
'Jolie! Quick, if you run through the back, you can get to town!'
'Isaac, I... I can't. He'll find me. Isaac, you can grab some things, and you can get to town. Take Bhronstein. He will carry you.'
The door slammed open, and he staggered in, drunkly brandishing a pistol.
'Isaac, go, now! It's not too late!'
One shot was all he made.
Isaac fled, running up the stairs faster than his legs could carry him, falling over more times than he could count. He remembered his stuff was already packed, and he grabbed the bags, climbing down the side of the house towards the horse pit.
'Isaac...!'
'Don't stop. Don't stop. Isaac, don't stop! He'll find you, too...'
Bhronstein gave a scared whinny, and the small boy climbed onto his back, carrying what he could as the horse set off on a gallop, unbridled and unsaddled.
"Jolie, I'm so sorry..."