The leader, the follower, the aid, the brute, the cyanide.

[nagisa.]

As soon as consciousness bubbled inside him, he groaned. He was met with a muddy boot to the face. The men kept on their conversation, and the one with the gruff voice had lit a cigarette. The smell stung his nostrils, making him cough.

[Simon-Says]

After time Fiera opened her eyes, she didn't make a sound, but turned her head ever so slightly, to look at Andrio. She touched her hand to his and squeezed his hand to tell him that she was awake, but it was probably a good idea not to talk.

[nagisa.]

He weakly squeezed back. Her head, disgustingly, lay in a pool of his blood. The man had hit him pretty hard, and caused him to bleed heavily. If that lasted much longer...

[Simon-Says]

Hayli froze at the sight of Andrio's blood. She crouched beside him and ran a hand over his cheek. Few drips of dew fell from her face. She whispered, "Mea amare...Erik, hurry, please!" she pleaded silently with the man who was related to her friends. Erik staggered on, tracking the men, fear and panic engulfing him. He was afraid for not himself, but for his nephew, and for his daughter. He needed them to be alright.

[nagisa.]

Andrio coughed, curling into a ball. He blinked, the sounds of everything around him muffled. Everything was blurred, pictures blotted like wet paper. "Fiera..." he grumbled softly.

[Simon-Says]

"Andrio..." Fiera saw the blood and she panicked, "Andrio! What have they done!?"
Erik saw the van and kept to himself in the shadows, waiting for the right moment.

[nagisa.]

The van stopped at a warehouse, and the men, holding the kids over their shoulder. "AUG! He keeps bleeding on me.." hissed the one who sounded young. "Oh quite yer whining Marcus. You don't have to carry this little brat." They walked in, and were greeted by a large man. He looked for anyone, and upon having no success, he walked back inside.

[Simon-Says]

Erik strode through the shadows, his personal guardian. His shoulder burned and he stumbled, not having his usual grace, if one would call it that. Fiera kicked at the man carrying her, trying to get away.

[nagisa.]

The dim lights of the building all melted together, the sounds was muffled, as if underwater. He could faintly make out Fiera, and squinted to get a good look.

[Simon-Says]

Erik crept inside and stayed in the shadows, watching the men. His face twisted at the pain in his shoulder and he once more pressed his hand against the wound. Fiera kicked at the man again.