It was barely a second after Jon's curse that a small figure burst from the treeline, sprinting past the retreating group of survivors in a B-line towards Jon. To most of the group, he was fast enough that they most reaction they'd manage was a startled recognition he was there- To those better trained, more might be gathered. Like the fact that he had an arrow nocked to the string of that oversized bow in his hands, or that his sole, pure focus seemed to be on Jon and the undead that had him pinned, completely ignoring the others as he whipped past. A few feet beyond them, he slid to a stop in the dirt, left side facing Jon and undead both as he brought that bow up, drawing back the string and sighting all before he'd even completely stopped.

It took hardly a heartbeat, before a deep, throaty hum came from the bow, arrow sent on its way at speeds suggesting the weight of the bow was rather on the high end. One moment, the runner was gnashing its teeth and snapping for Jon's throat- The next, it jerked hard, sprawling to the side and off of him- A long shafted arrow still quivering in the side of its head, the point having completely cleared its skull, visible on the other side. It was dead... Dead-er, at least. The boy already had another arrow on the string, pulled to half draw and ready to snap off another at any threat. Jon wouldn't need to hear his voice through the ringing in his ears to read the boy's lips as he shouted.

[color=39b54a]"MOVE!"[/color]

Mainly, it was directed at Jon, to get him back on his feet and running- To the rest of the group, he shouted over his shoulder, hoping at least the 'Boggs' person would have the sense to listen to him, and lead the rest.

[color=39b54a]"To the East! There's a gorge- can lose them there! North after that- Run!"[/color]