Still no movement out there. No sounds either and that has him back on edge. He shouldn't have started this fight. Hates how just the sight of that armour, that face, makes him feel like a rookie all over again, the stupid child who'd put his trust in people who were fundamentally untrustworthy. Should've listened to Connie all that time ago.

There's a rustle nearby. No, above, that prick of sense that drags his gaze upwards but too late. Just enough time to see a blur of movement, a tan and black figure bearing down on him from above.