Gabriel and Murphy bolted around the corner more suddenly than was probably usual. Or maybe it wasn't unusual. The Archangel wasn't sure, except that he was relieved they were somewhere there was just a touch more light. Just a touch--not much. Enough for Gabriel to realise he'd left his torch behind.
And he didn't dare go back. Maybe later, if they waited for the man to move elsewhere, and hope that no one picked it up.
As it was, the corridor they'd just left was long enough that once they reached roughly the door to the sunroom, Gabriel felt safe enough to slow. There were more people, here. Not many, but a few. Enough that someone would hesitate to attack; the man, or demon, or whatever he'd been, had waited until he got someone alone.
A little startled by the way his side ached, the way his chest burned with a weird need for air and yet dearth of it, the Archangel turned toward Murphy. "Are you alright?" he demanded anxiously, turning the man's hand over in his and peering into Murphy's face, giving him a visual inspection. "You aren't--aren't hurt?"
The loss of air made it hard to speak. Something else Gabe had always known, but never really known. At least Murphy didn't look injured, but that didn't mean much.
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Gabriel and Murphy bolted around the corner more suddenly than was probably usual. Or maybe it wasn't unusual. The Archangel wasn't sure, except that he was relieved they were somewhere there was just a touch more light. Just a touch--not much. Enough for Gabriel to realise he'd left his torch behind.
And he didn't dare go back. Maybe later, if they waited for the man to move elsewhere, and hope that no one picked it up.
As it was, the corridor they'd just left was long enough that once they reached roughly the door to the sunroom, Gabriel felt safe enough to slow. There were more people, here. Not many, but a few. Enough that someone would hesitate to attack; the man, or demon, or whatever he'd been, had waited until he got someone alone.
A little startled by the way his side ached, the way his chest burned with a weird need for air and yet dearth of it, the Archangel turned toward Murphy. "Are you alright?" he demanded anxiously, turning the man's hand over in his and peering into Murphy's face, giving him a visual inspection. "You aren't--aren't hurt?"
The loss of air made it hard to speak. Something else Gabe had always known, but never really known. At least Murphy didn't look injured, but that didn't mean much.