Halfway through his shift of guarding the Northgate, his eyes espied the figure of their indomitable, resident bad ass returning with several men in tow. From his perch, high above, he silently drew one of his hand-carved arrows from a quiver, which hung at his waist, attached to the worn leather belt that kept his pants up.<br/><br/>He took a stance, prepared to fire, just in case; with how quickly they were moving, their was a chance that they could be running from something, and if they were, he needed to be ready to shoot. Thankfully, however, their didn't seem to be any Kreatures hot on their trail; he had doubted it, but still, better to be prepared for the worst and not have it happen, than be caught flatfooted.<br/><br/>About halfway into the beating that the idiot below was receiving, he relaxed his stance, the arrow finding its way back into the quiver, and his bow relaxing. He turned his attention to Detta as she proceeded to physically and verbally decimate the sodding fool who, as he gathers quite easily, is now responsible for several of their own being killed in action.<br/><br/>Even Pain cringed a bit when he saw how badly beaten the man was. Though normally one to take joy and exhilaration in suffering (or inflicting) pain, the guard could not possibly fathom being on the receiving end of Detta's fury as anything remotely enjoyable. "Better clean yourself up, lad. And by the way, she will kill you if you fuck up again. That's no idle threat." He chastised the man after Detta had left, although he meant it to try and be helpful; to help reinforce the fact that he needed to pull his shit together and get with the program.<br/><br/>Hopefully, nobody died that Pain knew, otherwise the bastard below him was going to have a very unpleasant night; and he'd likely have another scar, but so what? His arms, even his legs, even his shoulders, all bore scars; many light, some so deep as to look to have been inflicted upon him by an attacker, and not by his own hand.<br/><br/>His attention returned to scanning the perimeter of the Northgate from his perch. Even if nothing was on their heels, their's still a chance that something might catch their lingering scent and follow it to their home, and he wasn't going to let<em>anything</em>hostile get past the gate. Not on<em>his</em>watch.