<div style="text-align: center">《 Clive &amp; Owen 》<br/>
Location: Near #3, 4, 5<br/>
Addressing: Rebel, Rachel, Miles <a class="username" data-user-id="6997" data-username="Traveler" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/6997/">Traveler</a> <a class="username" data-user-id="10174" data-username="tobacco camille" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/10174/">tobacco camille</a>​</div><br/><div class="bbImageWrapper bbImageAligned--right lazyload js-lbImage" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-single-image="1" data-src="/proxy.php?image=https%3A%2F%2Fi.imgur.com%2FbqHA3Ff.jpg&amp;hash=005153ce33fb8a7e73cbb454121e0360" title="bqHA3Ff.jpg">
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</div>The man had called Rachel to him in an authoritative voice, which she seemed to ignore in favor of her own curiosity or recognition. Perhaps he'd gotten it wrong and the man following her was really her husband, though clearly she was still looking for someone. Clive looked to the man's lowered weapon, hoping his brother didn't turn up from between the trees in any sort of urgency to get back to him. He was harmless, but heedless of his approach sometimes. Clive didn't bother to try and hide that he was with others.<br/><br/>"You'd be wise to be worried if we did know who was firing. We don't. Never put sights on the gunman. Didn't try. That was a precise cue to leave," Clive answered. No sense in waiting it out to try and find out circumstances. Survival and heroism didn't often go hand in hand, but it had seemed to spook others into the forest, something they had tried to avoid. Running around the woods after being spotted seemed a good way to make themselves appear a threat, and so Clive had given it up. He felt better when the man holstered his weapon, uncoiling his tense muscles a single notch. The woman took a step back towards him, pointing out what her brother already had.<br/><br/>"My brother was right. I'll owe him shit for that. Yes, Clive. You've got a better memory than me, evidently." He watched as the woman traced the outline of his scar. She'd patched him up but his mind had been on the job at hand; getting supplies unloaded and getting back home. "I apologize, but I don't recall your name," he admitted.<br/><br/>"We got word Abendblume had cast people out. Wanted to just take a look. Weren't sure the circumstances and if we needed to keep an eye on a threat, or the unprepared setting a beacon for the dead." It seemed to only be the latter. Still, looking in on people who were unaware wasn't model behavior, and with that came a sliver of guilt.<br/><br/>Clive heard a branch snap and a sharp, familiar curse.<br/><br/>"My brother. Not a threat," he made immediately clear, Owen's signal to go ahead and step out. "The quiet one with him isn't a threat either." If he'd stuck with them. "We got two more with us too, but they went a different way."<br/><br/>"I told you it was her," Owen said pointedly, "Is it true that Abendblume sent you all out here on your own? Who is shooting? One of yours?"