Dr. Sean Gallegar<br/><br/>Sean dropped the boots, and rose, "If you want me to rush, you need to get out of the doorway." he said in his lilting irish accent. He grabbed up the pile of artic clothing that he had laid on the seat of a chair; scooping up the boots in the process as he tucked everything under his arm. With deliberate, measured movements, he nudged the end of the rifle out of his face, "Well, come on, I'm tired of waiting on you Soldier." and slipped past him. He knew, well figured, that with the constantly moving southward direction of the trip, and the artic weather gear, that he would need at least the coat and boots to survive for any period of time. The gunshots only made him more aware that they may not be landing in the conventional way. "How well does that basic black do in artic conditions? No matter, I suppose, they'll shoot at you before me."