[Color=6FFFFB]"Yes,"[/color] Clifton began in quick reply to Madison's query. [Color=6FFFFB]"Myself along with the--" [/color]but whoever and whatever was going to happen would never leave his mouth.

[Color=6FFFFB]"Miss Amity!"[/color] Clifton shouted as he saw her trajectory. He tried to tell her to wait, but she was gone. No, no, no. Blasting inside with no backup? She could not be in two places at once. She could not both fight the creature and ensure that the civilians made it out safely. And the structural integrity of the home seemed to be decreasing every moment. Concern and frustration roiled in the agent's chest as his bright eyes darted among the remaining rune bearers. This required a snap response.

But there was no semblance of organization here, or even illusion of oeganization, just scattered individuals who were either unsure of what to do, or brashly taking matters into their own hands.

Silvarae, her posture coiled for battle, had followed Amity's lead and was charging into a flame-licked window frame, scattering blackened shards of glass.

Volkir was close on her tail, a tinge of bloodlust in his expression, as potent as his earlier sugarlust.

Thank the gods, the civilians came stumbling and coughing their way out of the hot smoke.

Clifton rushed forward to help the woman with one of her children. The little ones were lagging and she had one in her arms.

There was an almost unnoticeable balking at the prospect of touching the filthy ash-covered kid, but he took him from the woman's arms gently nonetheless and hurried him farther from the house, jerking his head for the others would do the same for the other straggling civilians.

The family was more or less safe.

 But now three rune bearers were inside an increasingly unsound building, rearing up to fight with a Jotun in possibly the worst possible fighting ground Clifton could imagine.