<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold">Christopher</span></div><br/><br/>"Smashing idea," Christopher put in after the woman was done talking. He was definitely ready to run, that's for sure. There wasn't a second where he wasn't hopping from foot to foot with the pent-up urge to run away, in fact. "Both the fleeing and the walking between both horribly dangerous certainties. A little bit dodgy on the details, but we'll make it up as we go. So, time to go!"<br/><br/>The snow was odd but hardly as life-threatening as the rest of the dangers all around them, so he ignored it except to brush a flake off his nose. He had read a study once that stated that the weather in a dream was indicative of one's state of mind upon resting. Sunshine meant happiness and rain meant sadness, but he wasn't sure what 'high probability of lava and snow' meant. Was he bipolar and suicidal? That might explain a few of his past choices in life, namely the ones that led him here.<br/><br/>"If no one else is going to move, then I'll bloody do it." The plucky brit said, puffing up his chest, and then began hastily moving toward the break between dying forest and volcano mountain. He ran in a very ungainly sort of way, a bit like a very nervous ostrich. Whether or not the rest of the group followed him was of little concern, since they weren't as important... real or dreamed.