<div class="floatleft">(http://i27.photobucket.com/albums/c195/TheOneTheOnlyTheShane/0000ryt3.jpg)</div>Looting, riots, panic in the streets, emergency workers being overwhelmed. So much wrong going on, in so many places. As the quiet TV filled him in on what was ultimately a large dose of speculation, with some actual noteworthy facts, he set about getting dressed. If he had to leave in a  hurry, he wanted to be wearing actual clothes, and not just his boxers.<br/><br/>A comfy flannel shirt, which was a moss green color with dark green stripes covered his upper body, while his lower half was clad in a nice, sturdy pair of old, but well-maintained cargo pocket jeans, held up by a cheap leather belt that was nevertheless quite good at doing its job. His feet, meanwhile, were clad in black socks, and just as he was putting on his cheap, generic, velcro sneakers--also black--he heard the distinct screaming of someone in distress.<br/><br/>"Fuck." It seemed like an appropriate time to swear, so he did. That was definitely loud enough to be coming from the building he was in. He wasn't sure who was in trouble, just that he really should do something about it.  He held onto his pocket knife as he stepped out into the hallway, the blade still folded neatly into itself, and held in the palm of his hand in such a way that it could not be seen what he was holding.<br/><br/>As he got out into the hall, it became easier to figure out where the disturbance was; that dog. Was that Esia's?  He's pretty sure he's never heard the big, adorable guy bark.<br/><br/>He had not heard Emma's yelling, but coincidentally, he had to pass right by her apartment on the way down to Esia's, so she might catch sight of the older man. He looked calm, but hurried.<br/><br/>It was barely a full minute, though it might have felt longer, before he was standing in the open doorway to Esia's apartment. He was prepared for a burglar or something, not for another human being that looked damn near rabid. He only allowed himself to be awestruck for a single, solitary moment though, before some of the mental discipline he's picked up in Escrima kicked in. True, it did not prepare him for this particular circumstance; but, he was flexible. Adaptable. That was a key to anything, really.<br/><br/>So, the dog seemed to be trying to pull the attacker off of the curvacious beauty. He was not interested in getting too close to the dog, afraid it might attack him as well. "Hang on." instead, he tried to pull Esia away, and out towards the hallway, which he figured would be safer.