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Their feet hit gritty pavement.

It's the middle of a block of foggy street in a run-down commercial district. Not the skyscrapers of New York, but squat, huddled old buildings of a quaint New England town. Behind them is a dusty toy store; other storefronts litter the street to either side and in front.

The whole place echoes emptily, the movement of the fog the only sound other than themselves.

Amber scuffs a sneaker on the asphalt. "So... yeah. Here it is."

Date: 2010-04-14 09:18 pm (UTC)
futures_of_ash: (Hero)
From: [personal profile] futures_of_ash
There was actually a low, steady growl trickling from Rachel's throat as they went. An unconscious thing that kept her in the right frame of mind for the run; after all, to take on the pack itself and hold them while Amber ran would require the Phoenix...

...and she'd already seen what too much force in this place could do. They didn't need the world dissolving around them.

She couldn't catch all of the chains, she couldn't even catch enough to keep Amber from being hit, but she was able to keep those chains from wrapping around; from hooking. With enough chains coming at them, she could tie the damn things in a knot that looked like a rusted, trembling spider's web in the hallway behind them.

Rachel was just an inch or two behind Amber when they hit the door back to the street.

Date: 2010-04-16 09:34 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hollow-way.livejournal.com
At the threshold,

And Amber is no longer in front.

Date: 2010-06-10 02:57 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hollow-way.livejournal.com
It's several blocks before she realizes that there's only one pair of feet pounding on the pavement.

Amber stops, clinging to a lightpost and gulping air. Her legs shake.

"rache?" she wheezes, then swallows more air into her aching lungs.

"RACHEL?"

....not the smartest idea she's ever had. She realizes it, and freezes, ears straining to hear anything beyond the pounding of her blood or the whispering fog.

Lucky. Nobody's coming after her.

Not lucky. Rachel's not coming after her.

"fuck fuck fuck." She sags against a brick wall, taking care to stretch out her legs.

She only relaxes long enough to get her breath and down a few granola bars. She doesn't have the luxury to take it easy, even with screaming legs and worry for her friend. She's off at a steady pace as soon as her breath gets back (http://hollow-way.livejournal.com/4872.html).

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Amber Holloway

June 2010

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