[center] He couldn't breath. 

His lungs felt frozen I'm his chest as white-hot agony trailed down his back. He hadn't even noticed the presence until crimson eyes met his own and pain invaded his senses, the Ice cold hand that trailed down his back almost lovingly had him shuddering. He could hear muffled voices and sounds, though he couldn't bring himself to move. It seemed to continue until a new and familiar scent drifted into the air, Kieran’s stomach settling on the smell rather than the previous smell of burning flesh. He still couldn't move but he wished to console the owner of the scent, his throat working as if in preparation to speak. 

He couldn't of course with the lack of oxygen missing from his lungs. Kieran twitched when another familiar scent joined the first, the iron-grip on his legs receding slowly as he took measured breaths. Then the second scent moved closer and suddenly the grip was back on his lungs and the agony returned with a vengeance. 

His lips parted and a scream tore itself from his dry throat, his body instinctively tensing and moving away.

Ryanair jerked to the present when Kieran’s scream echoed in the room, his blond head whipping up so fast he heard his neck crack. He was beside his sire in moment,  his hands steady as he helped Clara remove the rods. His jaw tightened as his own flesh burned, though he ignored it and kept helping. 

The sooner these were removed the better. Then they could go about finding the anders aa to how all of this happened with no one noticing. How the werewolves were slain and not even the Alpha noticed, or how this had happened and the bond hadn't flared to life. 

He wanted answers, he hated being in the dark. [/center]

[@earlymorninstar]