" Sounds like a pl-"<br/><br/>Their friendly repartee was interrupted when she abruptly slung the strap of the rifle down off of her shoulder, angled, and blew a face-sized hole off of an adventuring Groaner who had been peering in the window directly behind Cole. It seemed her hands could remain steady, but only when they had to. She reloaded the hot rifle quickly, a matter of reflex, and got to her feet.<br/><br/>" Let's get the f*ck out of here before our first meeting becomes our last one."<br/><br/>She knew they'd come running now that there was a second shot fired, so she took the best option available and started running up the stairs to the second story. It had a window that lead to a roof access, she'd seen it before entering. Even if the creeps got into the house she could make use of the roof to get out while they broke in, as long as they didn't spot her up there.<br/><br/>Well, them. Spot<span style="font-style: italic"> them</span>. The plural gave her a ridiculous thrill of joy, and she thought (not for the first time) that being alone had been beginning to drive her insane.<br/><br/>Her footsteps were softer then a does on the steps, her grace either inherited or learned young. She expected Cole to follow her, or perhaps was just too used to going it alone to even remember to look behind her.