[His head is swimming with directionless adrenaline, but the feeling of someone taking his hand is grounding. As he feels himself being pulled along, he calls out to the rest of the team, a command to follow him and be quick about it. They'll follow, he's sure of it. They have to. He can't stop moving or he'll be buried by flame and twisting shadows. That and it may be a bit selfish, but he wants - no, needs to get out immediately.]
[The night air hits him hard. Damp and cool in contrast to the blistering heat at his back. He stumbles, dumping his unconscious cargo on the ground and seizing the opportunity to rip his mask off. The filter has prevented the smoke from bothering him, but the heat is unbearable.]
[Behind him, only three of the 6 teammates have made it out. He has failed, again.]
Fuck. Fuck!
[But there's another matter to attend to, he realizes, as the numbness of fresh grief sets in. Their savior. Without his mask it's hard to see the figure clearly, but he reaches out to put his hand on their shoulder to try and steady their breathing.]
no subject
[The night air hits him hard. Damp and cool in contrast to the blistering heat at his back. He stumbles, dumping his unconscious cargo on the ground and seizing the opportunity to rip his mask off. The filter has prevented the smoke from bothering him, but the heat is unbearable.]
[Behind him, only three of the 6 teammates have made it out. He has failed, again.]
Fuck. Fuck!
[But there's another matter to attend to, he realizes, as the numbness of fresh grief sets in. Their savior. Without his mask it's hard to see the figure clearly, but he reaches out to put his hand on their shoulder to try and steady their breathing.]
You okay, chummer? Slow breaths.