The candle light was preceded by light footsteps; not a she-bitch, because the creaking woodwork was a slight too noisy for one of them, but more like a skinny he-bastard. Regardless, Gukb threw himself behind a large upright crate, [b]cursing as he realised his crossbow was still outside on the roof[/b]. 

"John, are you back here already?" the he-bastard called. 

Gukb reached to what passed as his belt, and quietly drew Red Rust from its holey sheath. He didn't want to murder anyone, not again anyway, but he was not above defending himself. Pressing his back as much as he could against the crate, he watched the corner of his cover as the candle light grew in prominence. 

[i]"If he reaches for somethin', then I be stabbin', if he runs, then I be runnin' too."[/i] Gukb thought to himself, as if the words constituted a concrete plan.