Edge of Ruin

Wren being close and saying that she wanted him to stay, brought the weight of shame off by a great deal. He felt almost drowned in a slightly hotter version of the strange feeling. He looked at Wren, and said "Thank you, for everything." Cole raised his head and closed his eyes. He felt the warm rays of the sun hitting his face. He cleared is head, they were nearly back to the bunker.

Cole Breathed out, they would have to get stealthy and observe any change, any beast lurking near the dead flayer. Everything was settled for now, and he trusted Wren even if he did feel worried that his fate or even he could hurt her. He said clearly and with a slight relief after such a stressful conversation, "We're nearly back to the bunker, let's get ready." Cole hardened himself and looked at Wren for assurance.

Cole ran quickly through his mind what the beast would be, it could be a flayer or worse multiple flayers. If Cole was really unlucky it could be something he'd never seen before, something with an unknown weakness and unknown capabilities was horrifying. "We could run into anything, so prepare yourself," Cole said seriously. "I'll lead," he said pulling his knife out and putting it in a defensive position, "tell me when you're ready to go and stay close."

This was it. This is where their connections, their worries were put on hold. They had to deal with upcoming events, the new creatures. What if it was another Flayer? The same kind of creature that harmed Cole before. Though the thought of more than one entered her mind, she was worried that the two wouldn't survive this fight. Was it feeding? She could only hope. Oh, she was not ready. She felt her head shake and took a few steps backwards. Within moments, she held the blade of her knife in the palm of her hand. She shook her head again and stepped back once more.

"No."

Wren didn't want to deal with them. Not again and not yet. She closed her eyes tightly and thought about their situation. She'd stay close to him. Not a problem there, but she couldn't promise things wouldn't get ugly or bad. She held the blade in her hand tightly and relaxed.

"Tell me we'll be fine. Can you promise that?" She wondered, her eyes locked on his.

Cole thought, could he promise such a massive task? Could he promise that they would be fine in any situation? Could he bear lying? He thought hard, and brought a determined look to his face, translating it to Wren. "I promise, on m life." With the last word realized he had made a deadly promise. He could keep it, but it would cost a lot, possibly more than Cole could give.

Cole looked into her eyes, trying not to show the actual worry inside. He sighed in thought, and tried to calm down. Thinking through the situation would help. They were going in on an unknown enemy, but they could use junk as cover. They would have to attack from a distance. As well as Wren could fight he could tell she wasn't trained, so Cole would have to be both offense and defense. Wren however knew the place, knew traps. The traps themselves wouldn't hold a flayer or anything just as strong for long, but it would slow it down.

"Wren, I'll keep my promise, but we're going in to an area I'm not familiar with, I need you to navigate and point out any traps we should be wary of or could use." Cole got serious waiting for Wren's response. He had hoped that he had worked his way out of the stressful promise for now, he never was one for words or charm, but what Cole said he intended to make it persuasive, true or not.

Wren thought this over for a moment. She just couldn’t bring herself to move forward. She was scared. She ran her hands through her hair, walked away a few yards and breathed out slowly. She just didn’t understand why she felt afraid, frightened. She shook her head slowly. “I can’t, Cole.” She whispered softly. Her heart was pounding, her muscles ached. The light was beginning to hurt her eyes.

She wasn’t used to harsh beams of light blinding her for so long. Wren actually missed the darkness for once. Her throat ached as she choked back the unwanted and fearful tears. Her heart was pounding, her head moved to her forehead and she collapsed to the ground for the short moment of conversation.

“If we die, I’m glad I met you.”

Was all she said, before she slowly pulled herself to her feet and tightened her grip on the blade.

Cole understood now, she wasn't used to knowing whether or not she would die, going into a situation in which survival is completely unknown. "And I'm glad to have met you," he said to try and reassure her. He wasn't going to let her sit in questioon, he had to reassure her or else her attitude could end up getting her killed for real.

He started after trying to calm her, "But we can't go in thinking that," Cole put his hand on Wren's shoulder and looked seriously at her. "We have to be confident, we can't just think we'll do it, we have to know," Cole said. He hoped she had listened and that she was understanding.

He was ready to go in and even more worried about what they'll see. He had hoped it was a flayer at least, but even with that he tried to follow his own advice by running through situations killing the beast in his head. The thought gave him some confidence about the situation. He now waited for Wren's response.

In light of Giles's offer, he merely looked over at his disappearing back before clearing himself of thoughts. There seemed never enough time to mourn, and there never may be. From their underground haven, the clash of debris caused by the storm's violent winds grew louder, following what little routine it had. He sat comfortably, or as comfortably as one could on solid concrete, listening for any changes in their surroundings. The man need not try, for it made itself obvious, a loud thunderous smash from the floor above followed by the reverberations down below. Immediately, he reached over to the torch lying beside him, blowing out the flame. There was little evidence that the noise was caused by something living, but caution had been ingrained in him. Giles had done the same, and soon Eoin could hear the sound of his light fleeted steps approaching. Remembering that he sat adjacent to the cold room, he rose, ducked inside and closed the door once the other man had entered. Soon, his predictions were confirmed, for sounds of a dragging load shivered into his ears.

Giles made movement to reopen the door, to go at the unknown threat alone, but Eoin held him back. Despite his lack of athletic ability, he had a nearly unbreakable grip, halting his friend easily. To engage when they could wait it out and avoid the situation entirely was the safest, and Eoin's preferred tactic. This limited their exposure to their enemies, dulling their combat experience as a consequence, but who knows how many times it had saved their hides. The arm within his hand relaxed, as did his grip. Not knowing their enemy, Eoin did not chance speaking and began to draw on his friend's palm. Two dots and a line: a silent face.

Then, they waited, ears perked to the creature's movements. It was a biped, its steps slow, likely scanning for any threats. There was one, at least, one inside. Eoin thought he could smell decaying flesh; perhaps that was the load that was being dragged across the floor, but it could also be the creature's scent. They had only ever encountered reavers, bogles and gorms, knowing nothing of other species and how to defeat them. He calmed his heart, mind focused, even as the steps crept closer and closer to the basement entrance. Was it led by the fresh scent of his blood? Or perhaps the smell of torches, or of their living flesh. Either way, it mattered little if they did not survive.

His fingers inched closer to his hatchet that still hung from his belt loop, pulling at an achingly slow speed. Beside him, Eoin could hear Giles readying himself as well with as much silence as he could muster. The steps paused again, right at the basement door frame. Sounds of oozing saliva and muttering grunts could be heard, suggesting the possibility of another creature or of its identity: a reaver. In their haste, they had left the only evidence of their entry outside: the torches. If they possessed any intelligence, it would not be hard to find them. However, if they were reavers, at least the smaller battle ground would limit their speed, but also reduce the distance of their deadly bites. It was all Eoin could do to scheme while they had the time, for with every scenario he thought through, the creaking of the stairs grew closer.

Wren took a deep breath and slowly released it. She listened to Cole’s every word, however, a lot of it made her feel uncomfortable. Not in a bad way, but, something different than what she was used to. The way Cole made her feel, she just couldn’t understand what it was called. Chemicals. It had to be chemicals, but what kind? She just didn’t understand that part of the aspect. Wren kept her eyes on his, her lips pursed slightly, then, she bit it softly. She was nervous.

Her hand kept a firm hold on the blade, her eyes looked over his shoulder. She had to think about the situations, about what she needed to do and how she was going to do it. She held the blade so tightly that her knuckles were pale and growing paler than the second. She then nodded. She was ready.

“Let’s go…”

Eoin was a better tactician than Giles. He knew that. He knew that for years--it was the only reason they took so long to escape their bunker and the reason why they survived in the first place. It also became increasingly apparent during the past year that this was a by-product of his cautious side.

This was why he respected Eoin's decision to stay in the storage room. It was a smart plan--just wait till the creature left. No battles were needed and they had a higher chance of surviving that way. Even Giles could agree to the logic behind it.

However, the footsteps weren't leaving at all. Above him, he could hear the creature’s movements, the stormy winds beyond that. They were coming closer and closer to the top of the stairs, and with each creak, Giles knew that any second the monster could come down.

He couldn't remain unprepared for that. If the monster was coming down, the best thing to do would be to fight it in the next room. Maybe at the stairs, it was a narrow enough place, but he didn't like the idea of being pushed back and tumbling down. Eoin wouldn't be able to fight for however long it took him to recover from a fall like that.

The next room was still somewhat cramped and narrow. With all the forgotten items and old debris scattered around, movement would be limited in places.

There was another thud, louder this time, and they were running out of time.

The next room would have to do. Opening the door a crack, he couldn't see squat. The darkness was impenetrable. Sounds of steps and a slow, thudding sound of something being dragged filtered through the wooden planks. It was much louder in here than in the storage room and Giles moved back to Eoin’s side.

They'd need to relight a torch if he was going to fight. Fortunately, they had both torches. Shrugging off his pack, he pulled out flint and then touched Eoin's arm. Poking it three times rapidly, he indicated his decision for an attack, before tracing an arrow as a signal to follow. Leaving the flint and torch in Eoin's hands, Giles felt for the door again and stood beside it.

As the fire was being lit, Giles could hear a slow creak, almost a whine. The doors to the stairs were opening. There was a bumping sound, of something hitting the ground, and footsteps. The creature was coming down the stairs, and it wasn't alone, still dragging something behind it.

A few seconds later, as he waited with baited breath, he could hear the sound of wood snapping and a loud crash. A loud moan came then, followed by an angry growl, and it wasn't hard to guess that the creature fell through a step on its way down.

There wouldn't be a more perfect time than this. Getting up, Giles darted through the door and to the stairs. Eoin wasn’t far behind. The torch casted a small pool of light. A shadowy figured appeared midway up the stairs, growing more humanoid in shape as they got closer.

It was a Reaver. With its dark skin and clothes, it blended in with the shadows around it if not for the small light Eoin carried. Grunting as it struggled against the stairs, a foot stuck through a step, Giles knew they didn’t have much time.

He stopped and focused for a second. Somewhere in his mind, something clicked, like a key fitting a lock. A door opened wide and he was overwhelmed by a world of senses. Concentrating only on the Reaver, only on the narrow passage, Giles leapt up the stairs.

It was now or never.

He excelled in tactics yes, but Eoin preferred careful planning over spur of the moment strategy. This was why even though Giles may think of himself as a fighter, having the role entrusted to him ever since he could wield a weapon, he was also a resourceful improviser. Thus, while the red haired man fretted over the nuances of battle, Giles was prepared to act.

Once he understood what was to follow, Eoin was handed the torch and what felt like flint. Surprised and a bit annoyed that he had sacrificed a match for no reason, he shrugged off his own bag. Eoin set down his hatchet before pulling out the pocket knife, dragging blunt end against the flint. He aimed it downwards at the makeshift torch lying before him, waiting for the sparks to catch. Once they did, he gently kindled the small flame until it encompassed the entire head. Holding the torch in one hand, he then packed up with the other before strapping the bag back on.

With his sight hindered by a mop of curly hair, Eoin was not prepared for the sudden crash, jumping at the sound. As the creature bellowed in anger he recomposed himself, grabbing the hatchet in preparation. Before he could deduce the cause of the sound, Giles had darted out, leaving the other man to give chase. Their eyes were not adjusted to the light just yet, but even with a blurred vision, it was clear that a familiar face stood before them: a reaver.

Giles acted quickly, fleet footed steps carrying his large frame upwards, his long knife at the ready. Eoin tried his best to follow, but his stride was slower and more cautious, not wishing to share reaver's current situation. The creature was caught off guard by the sudden appearance of prey, as well as the blinding light they carried. Even so, it swung at them with two powerful sweeps, followed by an attempt to bite the one closest to him. Eoin positioned himself two step below Giles, for a missing step separated them. Trying to illuminate the scene as best he could, he realized with a small frustration that the narrow stairway could not accommodate both Giles and the swings of his hatchet. The reaver then let loose a short cry, followed by a deeper, more malevolent growl. Perhaps the knife finally connected, but it was hard for Eoin to assess the situation from where he stood. It then leaned forward, using both its weight and strength to pull its leg loose from the wooden steps. Giles swung again in attempts to counter, too quick for the reaver to dodge for his reflexes had been heightened by his mutation. It roared angrily, though this time the noise seemed to gurgle and bubble. The sound of splitting wood was the short warning given before the reaver lunged forward, its leg finally freed. Giles dodged it fairly easily, but now it came for Eoin.

Instinctively, he thrusted the torch forward, hoping it would connect.

Cole nodded and crouched down as he started to move around to try and get a view around the shelter. He crept silently and slowly looking back occasionally to assure himself Wren was behind him. He stopped and waited as he was afraid to advance any further for fear of both traps and monsters.

"Okay, here is where I need you," Cole said in a hushed voice. He remembered his vision of the trap, that in a way almost came true. It horrified him even thinking of what might be around that corner and thinking of being trapped with a strange beast would be even worse. Cole breathed in deeply and held it in for a second. He then exhaled as he tried to slow his heartbeat, and making a small success.

"I just need you to point out traps and warn me about any that you've set ahead, I'll only move on your go." Cole looked back at Wren, and through her sunglasses he could still see her bright shining eyes. He got that feeling but it was drowned in adrenaline and nerves. He didn't have time for that, he then eagerly listened for Wren's response.

He could hear his blood pounding in his ears. The soft intake of breath as Eoin saw the creature, the sharp snarl of the reaver as it noticed Giles. A movement, razor-sharp, and Giles instinctively ducked.

Just in time too, as the reaver swiped at him, claws outstretched. Fortunately, with it's leg stuck, it swayed off balance and Giles took that moment to counter attack. Noticing the reaver's chest was open, he stabbed up, cutting through the layers of cloth and flesh.

It was easier than he thought, for the blade to sink in. Their skin wasn't much tougher than his, just different. With little effort, he pulled the blade out immediately and frowned.

His cut was too shallow.

At that moment, the reaver struck out again. He dodged, falling to the ground as he did so. Now it was his turn to be off-balance, shifting his stance as he crouched on the staircase. The step beneath him groaned as he moved, and Giles was reminded once more of how precarious this battle ground was.

Hearing a soft snapping sound as the Reaver unhinged his jaw, Giles gave a soft smile. A bite would leave a lot of openings. A bite would be very useful if he timed it right. Standing up, he tensed in preparation.

Its body sprang forward, teeth snapping shut on empty air. Swerving right, Giles jabbed at its exposed throat, his arm arcing down and to the left.

A hand came up, trying to push him away, and his knife hit a little lower than he intended. A good wound, but not a killing one.

It screamed, pained and angry, and Giles was unprepared for the punch. Hitting the wall, he gasped, the wind knocked out of him. Was he scratched? He couldn't tell at the moment, his stunned chest still tight. Frantically, he watched the reaver, not sure if he could react in time if it tried to do anything.

Luckily, it didn't.

Unluckily, it was trying to get its foot out, and with each pull, it seemed to be getting closer. Wood splintered as he watched and there wouldn't be much time left. As it moved, Giles could see in the dim light a silver glint in its chest.

His knife was still there, stuck in the body, and he'd have to pull it out before he could get anything done.

There was a sound below him, and he could see Eoin there, not sure what to do. Eoin, unable to fight if it got any further. Gritting his teeth, Giles breathed in and attacked the reaver.

It was fast, always fast, but Giles was fast too. It trashed harder and harder, trying to free its leg, ignoring his punches. His hands ached from the fighting, barehanded was never the way to go against these things. Avoiding its head, he punched its throat.

It roared, exposing its chest, and Giles took that moment to pull his knife out. There was a wet sound as he did--and this time the wound was deeper.

A crack went off like a gunshot, and that was the only warning he had before the reaver broke free from it's prison. Instinctively, he leapt to the left, avoiding it as it tumbled down.

Only to remember after Eoin was there. Vulnerable and in danger. His friend tried to deter it with the torch, a desperate ploy. While it burned the reaver's skin, gravity was too strong to resist, and the reaver continued it's plight downward. Startled, his partner took a step down, through a hole.

Unbalanced, with his foot stuck, he started to fall.

Giles turned around in time to hear a crash, the beast at the foot of the stairs and Eoin sprawled down the stairs. His head must have hit something, but there was no time to think about it.

Already, the reaver was starting to get up, dazed and disoriented. Behind it, the door to the storage room stood ajar. Eoin was still stuck on the stairs and it would be hard enough fighting this thing without having to worry about his friend as well.

Running down the steps, he dodged his friend's body before he made it to the floor. The reaver was standing, shaking it's head and swaying as it faced Giles.

Running forward, he kicked it as hard as he could.

It wasn't hard enough.

Wren watched as Cole crouched down. Her own body slowly knelt down as she followed him around the shelter to take a good look. She took a deep breath and nodded as he mentioned her traps. She had set up quite a few, luckily, she made sure she would remember where they were at. She crawled forward and laid on her stomach beside his form. She slid her hand forward and pinched at the dirt in front of them. Her finger tips wrapped around a thin, small white wire and carefully, she lifted it from the dirt. She had to remind herself just where it ended. Her brightly colored eyes narrowed in intensity, her nose scrunched slightly as she nodded.

“This wire leads to a trap not too far from here. It releases spears of wood from the pile of junk over towards the left of the entrance. As long as you don’t step near the pebbles, you’ll be fine from this one.” She explained, hopefully it made sense. “Some bear traps from my bunker are set up underneath the dirt. Do you remember those silly songs we used to sing as a child? Ring around the rosy? I’ve dropped small little flower petals along the ground, you can walk where they lay and you’ll be fine… I…”

She knew there were more traps…she just had to remember and it was difficult. Where were the pits? Oh…she had to think. “Cole…there’s a few holes I just can’t remember where they are…” She bit her lip. “They have knives and a bear trap at the bottom of them. The ones that close on you if you step on them… I have some knives hidden in the dirt. They spring, but they aren’t set up.”

“See that sheet metal over there? The one I used to jump on the creature’s back? About six feet towards the right of it is a trick wire… do not set it off. You’ll be shot.” She bit her lip.

Something inside her wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face to his shoulder. She couldn’t explain what the feeling was. Chemicals again? Her eyes squeezed shut and her lips brushed across his neck involuntarily. “Please..be careful.”

He could feel a weight push down on the torch, sounds of snarling and gnashing of teeth and the smell of rot before his crown connected with the step, the blow softened by the wood's age. Disoriented, Eoin could barely make sense of what had happened. Even so, he could hear the sounds of footsteps coming toward him, and instinctively turned to the side to dodge them. However, once he did, Eoin could feel a sharp edge digging into his calf, jolting him to his senses. As the blood rushed to his head, the man attempted to lift himself up, for he now laid on the stairs with his foot trapped within the rotting wood. If there was time, he would have preferred freeing himself slowly to avoid damage to their exit, but with him unable to even defend himself, Giles was already put at a disadvantage. He would be unfocused, too preoccupied with Eoin's safety to properly put up a fight and possibly costing them both their lives. And so, with his hand on the hatchet, he began to hack at the wood as quickly as he could without compromising accuracy, lest he accidentally hurt himself.

Eventually, Eoin was freed. Scrambling, he rose to his feet and took a quick glance over to his partner's situation but realizing that his left hand was empty. Where was the torch? He cursed silently, bleary-eyed and head still pounding as he followed the source of light. Apparently, their luck was running out, for the torch just so happened to land on a step of the stairs, the dry wood catching fire. There was nothing he could use to starve the fire, for it was growing too quickly. Hurriedly, Eoin ran past the kindling flame and toward Giles, who's shoulder dug into the door as he held off the reaver. He was noticeably relieved once he saw the red haired man plant his hands on the door, but obviously distressed when he spoke.

"Fire!" Eoin shouted over the noise of the reaver's struggle, his mind rushing to find a solution.

Cole listened carefully and had a it of trouble plotting all of the traps out in his head. "I'll be careful, but I need a second to comprehend the traps, is there any other safe route besides the petals?" Cole asked focusing on the spots she pointed out. He just had an idea and it could possibly out do his "plan" to rush through the traps.

Cole sat there for a second and made marks in the dirt trying to plan things out. He made X's and O's everywhere and small triangles. He mapped the movement of the X's and O's with lines. He took a minute or two mapping several situations with various amounts of Os, but always two X's.

"Okay," Cole said now looking up at Wren and her bright eyes, like crystals shining in the sun. Cole thought of that each time he saw them. "What if instead of walking around the traps, we used them to our advantage." Cole swallowed trying to find words for his plan. "What if we lure it out, into our view, and if we have to, run like hell."

Wren stared at him for a moment, as if his plan was just crazy, but crazy enough. Her eyes settled on his for a moment, mouth agaped and her eyes slowly widened. Did he mean to lure out the creature, into the traps? She bit her lip softly as if comprehending it finally. She thought this over, her fingers brushing against the dirt as she thought. It could work, but it'd take a lot of running in order for them to be safe. Just safe enough not to get killed.

"It could work..instead of the petals you could just not touch the ground. Climb on the boxes and sheet metal." She gave a shrug. "Lure in the creature and use the traps to our advantage. I like that, but we have to move quickly." She added.

"Just," She started. "Yeah, be careful." She whispered. Wren leaned forward and gently pressed her lips against his cheek and held it for a moment. She wasn't sure what made her do it. She wasn't sure what pulled her into the kiss to the cheek. It was almost like, instinct. She smiled softly and leaned back, giving a firm nod.

"Lots of noise will lure em out."

"Umm, yeah..." Cole was blushing by accident. What Wren had just done was extremely strange, it was something only his mother had done, when he was much younger. Did Wren think Cole was her child? No that was crazy, but something close still. "Umm," he began a little distracted from the previous anticipation. He backed a little from the stance of action, now a little more curious as to what was happening.

His heart beat in a deep and steady tone, carrying his chest with each contraction. his lungs didn't want to function right, and he doubted that he could do anything in this state. He felt like he could run a marathon and still beat a flayer to death single handed right now. "wait, what was that, and what... he hesitated, trying hard to express what he was feeling, and find the right words for it. "What is this feeling," he flat out asked, losing a little of his quietness, " why am I so nervous?" Cole was trying hard now to control himself, and to think about things. Hi went from squatted crouch to on one knee, no longer holding his knife in a defensive position.

He wasn't used to this many feelings, and especially so many unknown variations of something that felt so incredibly the same. He he kept breathing deeply in and out, now calming just a little. He touched his cheek, still warm from the kiss, and looked at Wren. "Why did you do that," obvious confusion in his voice, he was sitting, waiting for an answer from the bright eyed girl.

Wren closed her mouth softly. She wasn't sure why she did it, or what compelled her to do so. For a moment, she remained quiet. She stared at him, biting the inside of her lip as she retraced back to her own pounding heart. Her hand moved and brushed some of her hair away from her face. "I-... I don't know." She answered, quite honestly. "I just felt...like I needed and wanted to." She breathed.

Her heart was pounding and warmth was rushing to her cheeks. She quickly looked away...shyly? She couldn't explain it. She couldn't quite understand what was happening. "Cole, I-" Her cheeks turned pink and her lip lowered slightly, her eyes closed and she hid her face within her hair.

"I...don't know."

The reaver didn't like being in the storage room. It started to push against the door, not as strong as it could have, but getting stronger with each push. Bracing himself against the door, Giles pushed back, keeping the door shut. Was there a lock in the doorknob? Something to keep it closed long enough for him to leave? They could run up the stairs and break the remaining steps, leaving the creature in the basement.

His head thudded against the door as the reaver banged against it. As his feet started to slide, Giles scrambled to find a more stable position. Somewhere behind him Eoin was hopefully getting on his feet, with an idea that would relieve his aching shoulder.

In front of him his friend's face suddenly appeared, a strange panic on his face. Eoin rarely got riled up, and Giles swallowed.

The news didn't help much to quell the fear. They had to get out of here fast. "Is there a lock on the door?"

A small rattle sound came as Eoin checked the handle, before shaking no. Well, there went that idea. Turning his head, he could see the small fire at the foot of the stairs, the eerie play of light and shadows in front of him. They had a little time, but not much--once the fire caught on, their only way out would be gone. As it was, the air felt a little more heavy, the smoke starting to fill the room.

"Okay, then we need to get up the stairs." And the only way to move would be to leave the door open. The reaver would never let them do that. "I need to hurt the reaver. Again."

Frowning, Giles shook his head. "And we don't have much time. We need to finish this before I'm useless. Eoin, pass me the knife. You can hold the door until I'm in position, and then let go. I'll try to hurt it--in the legs, I guess, so it won't follow us." Hesitating for a moment, Giles closed his eyes and inhaled.

It was obvious there was a chance his plan wouldn't work. Obvious and he didn't like to think like this, in terms of percentages and likelihoods. It didn't change that he had to. They've been through this before and with any luck, they'll live long enough to go through it again.

Exhaling, he opened his eyes, staring right into Eoin's. "While I'm doing that, you run up the stairs and get out."

If he couldn't defeat the beast, at the very least he could delay it long enough for someone to survive.

Eoin didn't like the sound of the plan, but it was their best solution at the moment. There was no time to barricade the door what with the growing fire behind them, and so risks had to be taken. Following Giles's lead, he passed the knife over, handle first. His calm was quickly dissolving, prompted by the crackling flames, fueled by their improvisation. He took as deep of a breath as he could with the growing smoke, nearly coughing as the ashy air crept into his throat. Once Giles turned back to him, there was a noticeable change in the atmosphere, an imminent yet standstill sort. To leave his friend, his one companion, his brother alone, he couldn't imagine it. Yet, being a harsh realist at heart, Eoin could not deny the need, and swallowed any hesitation. He only knew that really didn't like the plan now.

Quickly, he moved into position, his shoulder and upper arm digging deep into the cold metal door. Giles released his hold, but only for a moment. Even so, Eoin immediately felt the full strength of the reaver, his stance nearly slipping. So often had he played the defensive role, but never had he dealt with a reaver so directly. It frightened him to be so weak, and only now did he truly feel the despair of their continued existence. To live in a world of these creatures, wandering for the rest of their lives, what did they make of it all? Nothing. He had filled the festering pit with false ideas since the day he was born.

Giles then gave the signal, and the door shot open.

Eoin ran, not looking back, just as he was told.

As gracefully as he could manage, the man dodged the flames, stepping only on the most solid steps to avoid trapping himself between the rotting wood. There were close calls, but Eoin had managed to use the railing to keep his balance, and to drag himself up the steps. Once there, he could feel a warm sensation at his shins, a kindling flame. Instinctively he swatted at the fabric, briefly distracted in his escape. Recovering quickly, he then spotted the reaver's cargo: a live body. It was a man, young as they usually were, unconscious and beaten. Eoin had little time to analyze the situation, but it seemed as though the victim was on the brink of death, or at least, his mind convinced himself of the fact. It made the next step much lighter on his conscience.

Dragging the body over, Eoin glanced into the basement, his eyes watering from the heat of the flames. He could see two figures moving, both struggling up the steps. He prayed Giles was not wounded, that the man would not survive this insane scenario just to die from infection. Either way, he could not hesitate now, he couldn't lose another.

"Watch out!"

With some effort, he threw the body downward, hoping to slow the reaver down.

"I want to..." Cole said his face turning worried. He shook his head and backed up from the are where the old metal shack. "This is confusing me, and distracting, and altogether not usual." Cole looked at Wren honestly, and sincerely. "Look there are some things we need to talk about before we can really trust each other." Cole looked down for some reason he couldn't explain.

He felt some sort of feeling of shame, but he hadn't done anything bad. "I haven't ever been around someone like you before... a girl, and it's a little different for some reason." Cole looked back into Wren's bright eyes, "I don't understand but it's starting to effect me on a very important level, and it needs some sort of resolution." Cole looked back at the shack, scared of not only it now, but what he was feeling as well.

Wren stared at him for a moment before a breath of air escaped her. She stared at him, her eyes lokced on his own but he then looked back at the shack. She bit the inside of her lip and nodded slowly. She understood what he meant, she knew that they needed to discuss some things. Her eyes looked to the ground for a moment.

"I've been with the women of the group for awhile. Never been exposed to the other people, and you, people like you. I tried so hard not to get attached to you. I had half the mind to just turn you away...to just tell you to go, but, more than I want you to go, I want you to stay...with me." She explained, her voice quiet. "Cole, I..these feelings don't make any sense, but I like them. I mean... they don't hurt, it's hard to breathe sometimes but I like them. I like being around you."