"A trap!?" Glaive reiterated as he looked around wildly for any signs of an ambush. It took him awhile to realize it was Weston's voice due to the outright panic and adrenaline rush he felt.<span style="font-style: italic">Splat!</span>Came the sound of a paintball that barely missed coming in contact with his legs. At that point Glaive was given enough reason to abandon his position. He jumped to his feet and just ran, not caring in the slightest where he was going as long as he was far enough away from whatever offensive maneuver was being plotted against him.<br/>As soon as he felt comfortable enough he sat down by a nearby tree, resting his back against its trunk and his gun held firmly in both hands. He let out a breath of air, unable to remember when he took his last breath or whether he was holding it the entire time.<br/>"That was too close. I hope I didn't give Weston too much trouble wherever he is. I owe him one."