Pain returned before senses and smell returned before sight. Jammed between a boulder and a cliff, Twitch's bracer was pressing uncomfortably into his chest, his arm stuck awkwardly under his body. A bruise pinched familiarly on his tail. Beyond that and his mood, the rat was unharmed. Wiggle, wiggle; Air began flowing into Twitch's nose again, sorting itself into scents. Too few scents. There was ozone, long familiar from Zaun's risky technological endeavors, giving for the briefest instant the illusion that he was still where he remembered. His eyes started wildly open when it wore off, the boulder pressing intimately close to his face. There was a "Hu-hoh" vocalisation of shock as he began to squirm. Odours continued to pour into his head. Rock dust, predominantly. A similarity, vague, far away, to the trees of Summoner's Rift. Thin air. A still-dispersing whiff, weird and distinct, like a broken Nexus, like rifts from a Void champion. That trace of distortion was ominous above all else. Only dimensional faults ever left something like that.

Lack of room was never an obstacle to Twitch's movement and it didn't prove to be now. Wiggling his spine, pressing against the rock, he rose upwards, but not far. Tight spaces could be reckoned, monitored. Open air less so. [i]Foreign[/i] open air not at all. Twitch ran his fingers over his kit, sensing his quivers, his flasks, his bow. He was safe, it seemed, only because his weaponry had absorbed an impact; Countless bolts were broken or missing, mostly his prized piercing ammo. Plenty of sharp and noxious objects presumably lying at the bottom of the crevasse, useless to him. The sight of a shattered poison vial on his crossbow incited a growl equally disdainful and furious. Killing someone now would be immensely satisfying. At least his adhesive flasks remained intact for that purpose.

There was nothing left to do but emerge. Deftly reassembling his bow, he nocked one of his deadlier bolts, desiring nothing more than to impale the first thing he encountered. As he crawled upwards, his phobia of being caught without buckets of ammunition tapped him on the shoulder, whispered gently how imprudent he was being with his limited supplies. His anger overcame his caution.

Twitch's head poked out of the stone, momentarily taking in the vast, godforsaken blight of a mountainside, the bright light of the sun, the distant woods. The glance was cut short by a streak of electricity blazing nearby, exploding in his ears, leaving a fresh wisp of ozone. Twitch's head darted back, watching upwards, waiting to shoot into the face of anything looking down. Nothing came. Straining his ears as soon as they stopped ringing, he tried to identify sounds. The breeze was against him, but... The League quickly teaches its champions what a battle sounds like.

Adrenaline flowed. Hopping momentarily from his shelter, Twitch watched for the sound, saw three men drawing swords at a glowing cloud too bright for his unaccustomed eyes to distinguish. It had indistinct feet and a tail and a hum of electricity and a million insect wings.

"Cut out that awful [i]light![/i]" Screamed Twitch to the heavens, firing the toxic weapon somewhere into the center of the cloud.