[b]"<We are not [i]most[/i], nor are we Aplesshar>"[/b] I was quick to snap, frustration with myself and nervousness for what I had already convinced myself was a terrible idea, feeling foolish as Skylar spoke. I stop to count our numbers, noticing the stranger had already gone off ahead. Laying a trap? Telling the kill squad about a rinky-dink mismatch of would be (and one should be) 'heros'?
My grim thoughts were pulled from my mind at Skylar's touch, having almost forgotten about the now. Now we were warriors, for one reason or another. I'd be loathe to squander a prayer to the gods with the excuse of cowardice now...however tantalizing running away was. Her fingers were cool and silken against my cheeks and jaw; I was never used to her touch and certainly didn't deserve anyone's respect if I got a single one of them hurt, if only for her. I was glad that she respected my vow of obscurity, especially with strangers in our midst.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And so our hero's visor fogged up, lightly from the human's kiss, shuffling in their boots slightly before following Ashiek, whispering a small prayer while tracing the barrel his rifle...on his back. [i]"God, Gods, guide the wings of my steel; set sail and find me a grain in the coffin with which to set my nail"[/i] his words chirp in a hushed French, aware of Ashiek's mood and not wanting to really attract his attention. Keepa wasn't a leader; quite meek in all honesty and a would-be coward if not for the company he kept to inspire him to be more.

As they approached the door, he slipped a pair of ballistics plugs into his bunny ears which he tucked back into his hood. Gas mask still on, pistol in one hand and gas grenade in the other, it almost looked like he knew what he was doing.