<div class="floatleft">(http://i188.photobucket.com/albums/z302/redwillowwitch/lady_sif_dark_world_by_bucfan98-d6s6afs_zpsee9006b0.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><strong>Name:</strong>  Lady Sif<br/><br/><strong>Location:</strong> Avengers Tower<br/><strong>Time:</strong> 1422<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong> All currently at the tower<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>  Armor <br/><br/>Sif had followed the heroine, who seemed to be in a daze more then anything. She had seen it before, with those who had recently lost those they loved to a random, senseless war. The pace was good however, and they made it to the Avengers Spire within several minutes of starting. The situation there seemed even less tenable then before. Though the warriors of midgard were fighting well, and from what she could see each other as well. The Green Giant, feared even in Asgard seemed content to attack friend and foe alike from what she could see. The Iron Knight was blasting the monsters from the sky as well, and more heroes then she could readily identify were lending their hands. <br/><br/>The mechancial voice, not of the drones bellowed throughout the area even as she had hefted her newly acquired mace once more, ready to rejoin the fray. Signaling a retreat, a withdrawal. Loathe as she was to do so twice in a given day, they were simply flailing at the problem randomly with no battle plan. They could survive, perhaps, and may even take the battle, but this war was just beginning and none would survive it should they fall. Moving towards the gleaming tower, rival to even Asgard's heights, she paused. One of the mortal conveyances had been flipped in the battle, and she spied a small, pale figure beneath it. Looking towards the rush of people to the tower, she stopped and turns, one hand reaching to grasp the hood of the vehicle and flipped it with all her might. The car went tumbling away, revealing a small child, barely 10 years if a day. Her face covered in soot, blood, and other things that Sif did not even want to hazard a guess at. <br/><br/>Strong hands wrapped softly around the small child, hoisting the little girl to her chest, even as she clenches the mace protectively, turning and eyeing the carnage even as she joined the retreat towards the tower. Bloodlust could wait, honor would be satisfied another day. The true purpose of a warrior is to protect those that cannot do so themselves. Holding the sobbing child to her, who clung tightly as if she would vanish if let go of, she stood guard near the enterance, ready to ensure the last possible person could be saved. </span>