Finally the creep up to the large crash site area and to Aureole’s shock, Emalia was correct in assuming that it was a ship. He stares at in as if it were a beacon from the heavens, a beacon full of possible supplies. Out here, supplies meant the difference between life and certain death. He feels Emalia begin to make a move towards the ship, he grabs her arm before saying, “Stop, we don’t know if the crew is alive or not.” He explains as he pulls his trusty black pistol and aims towards the ship, extremely sharpened reflexes ready, “Come out with your hands up, if you are unable to walk then shout something… you will not survive if you attempt a violent action of any sort!” The wind gently blows past him, rain finally ceasing as if waiting for the poor unfortunate soul to make a move upon the red head murder machine. He begins to take a few steps forward, a slender pale figure, still shirtless due to his bandages with tight black pants and stares at the ship through one gleaming purple eye.. the other dead and white. “I repeat!” He exclaims after a moment of silence, “If you lived through the crash, come out with your hands up, if you are unable to move shout something and make no mistake.. if you cross me I will be the last man standing!” He puts extreme emphasis on that word, will, as he continues to approach the wrecked ship.