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ℤ𝕖𝕡𝕙𝕪𝕣𝕦𝕤 𝔸𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕤
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[i]“[color=salmon]Don’t leave me! Help! [b]Please![/b][/color]”[/i]
Zephyrus felt an icy horror about his chest, a cloying dark about his heart - truly, that scream haunted him more than any creature of shadow had. But it was already too late. He tried, in those last few instants, to turn and strike out - a gust of air broke against their attackers' knuckles, but there was too many of them, and no time to spare. He wasn't sure what it was that spurred him on towards helping this loud liability, but on some level deep beneath a carapace of feigned indifference and a practiced calm, the older brother in him cried out. But he could do nothing more than that. On the surface, Zephyrus was mute, save for his parting words. Quiet, soft. Inaudible among the chaos.
“[color=267FD3]I'm sorry.[/color]”
He leapt, backwards, into the false wall. 


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Archer Anders
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Archer felt strange, when Felicia put her arm out in front of him. It was the first fight in a long time, he realised, in which he didn't have Zephyrus for backup. He complied with her, of course, backing away to give her space - waiting until he could stop shrieking and start fighting. But something about the protective gesture made him feel just a little safer, a little more willing to get back into the fray. So long as he had some backup.

He exhaled. Ran a hand through his hair, clotted with curls and sweat, now. 
"[color=FF5733][i]Calm down, Archer. Where's your head at?"[/i][/color]
He took another deep breath. Trying to find his calm, trying to find his fight. 
"[color=FF5733]Alright... alright, I think I'm ready to-[/color]"

That was when something [i]else[/i] fell out of the ceiling, something small, and strange, scuttling past him and up the bars. 
Oh no, they were [i]back.[/i]
"[color=FF5733]aaaAAAAAA[/color]"
Archer freaked out. Which might well have been the right move for him to make. Keeping calm, he realised, was something that worked when Zephyrus had his back. But without that rehearsed duality, he thrived best on pure instinct. No calm, running water. No gentle evening breeze. Fire. A huge, churning fire, building in his stomach, in the pit of his gut. 
He was spurred on. By fear, by fire, by Felicia and her own display of strength and bravery. As they piled in on her, he jumped, and brought his elbows down on the tops of their heads.
[i]"[color=FF5733]I'm gonna [b]cremate[/b] you boney bastards![/color]"[/i]