Bucren’s bow<i>twanged</i>as he fired at the approaching horde of monstrosities, fast running out of projectiles in his simple quiver. His hand reached back for another to nock to his bow, feeling only the brush of two feathered shafts remaining. Ismark was at the door and they should be in any second now, though he had to look when he heard the man unleash a chorus of expletives. The door was barred. Barred? So had they come on a fool’s errand then, trapped in the streets, only to die a miserable death as teeth and claws tore them apart? That’s what he got for helping newcomers. Clenching his teeth, he brought out his second last arrow, notching it to his string and bringing it back beside his jawline. This had to count. He wasn’t going to perish like some helpless goat bleating in some trapped corner. He-<br/><br/>And then, the dull sound of a locking beam being raised and a creaky door opening came wafting to him, with new voices urging them to come in. Bucren, faced with the prospect of a swarming horde of ghouls, with just two arrows left and a half broken blade, didn’t need to be told twice. Heart racing, he turned and sprang towards the door after Ismark and the girls rushed in, though he paused at the threshold as he knew he wasn’t the last. Xavier. The man was staying behind, too far away to make it time without endangering the rest. Bucren barely had time for a last glimpse before he threw himself within, bow and arrow clutched in his hands, finally letting go of the breath he had been holding when the door was shut after them. They had made it, albeit with some unfortunate casualties.<br/><br/>And<i>she</i>was here. Outside. He remembered how casually she brushed off his feathered shaft to the head. She was coming for them.<br/><br/>Whoever was within this so-called abandoned shack, they clearly knew, and were known, by Ismark.<i>Brother? Sister?</i>He had no time to consider the implications of Barovian family dynamics now. The others sought shelter and Bucren gave the man and woman within a once-over with his eyes before looking back to the door.<i>They were outside.</i>Just one restraining beam? That would hardly suffice. While the others discussed what to do next, Bucren busied himself with finding any loose furniture or debris he could, kicking and shoving it to further block the doorway and impede any further transgressors. Xavier was still outside. With<i>her</i>. Their turn would come soon. When he pushed what he could to this makeshift barrier, he too sunk to his feet, back to the door, panting a moment as he ran a hand over his face. Arrows. He needed more. And a blade that fuckin’ worked properly. It was too late to visit a smith now. And with what money?<br/><br/>Another bang at the door reminded him how just this narrow frame separated him from death and he lurched back on his feet, bow slung and arrow back in its quiver with its lone partner. “I trust this is not the end of our meticulous escape plan?” He mentioned drily to no one in particular.