[@Hokum]

The overwhelming connection seared him like moth to a flame, threatening to reduce the shocked musician into ashes as she took him by the hand in a mad dash towards the western gate.  Every nerve lining his body sang to piercing heights, a look of pure ecstasy clouding the musician's features with his half-lidded eyes and lolled tongue.  Without thinking about it, his legs paced one after the other like a maverick's gallop which allowed the dyad to batter through the wall of undead surrounding them with violent surges of lightning which lashed out at anyone foolish enough to come in range with the shield of concentrated storms.  Ren always refused to look at his clients whenever they toyed and mangled his body in their desperate attempts at morbid pleasure; he found it impossible to ever gaze at something that willingly sought out to harm another, even if their hands forcibly threw Ren over the precipice.  But, now, as he felt a euphoria like no other, Ren's eyes refused to look away from the tantalizing sight of Devlin in a blood-crazed state, her devilish smirk and scraping voice making the mute lad's blood run wild.

He never really processed how much time has passed, but when his consciousness slammed back into his body with the force of a sledgehammer, Ren could not stop himself from falling face first into the stone pavements of the western gate as Devlin's grasp left his.  Immense rivulets of sweat cascaded down his dirtied skin, his body now writhing in an attempt to compensate for the intensive fatigue inflicted upon it by whatever frenzied mayhem Devlin led him into.

With the last remnants of the mutated cells flowing through him, Ren sat up with a gasp as his arm began to regenerate the skin it lost when the open wound began to close with subtle gurgles.  The gashes and wounds on his face also closed, blocking off the blood from bleeding out on Ren's face.  When Ren felt confident that all wounds on his body now laid healed, he switched off that strange switch in his head which allowed his ability to rest.  However, the repercussions began without mercy.  Ren's chest constricted, almost cutting off his air supply.  His arms weighed heavier than two caravan carts, and his legs seemed as if they melted right off his bones.

They were safe, for now.  And, the brief lull allowed Ren a few seconds to at least stabilize himself.

When he felt that the world stopped spinning for once, Ren forced himself to his knees, and then, to his feet as he focused his attention on Devlin who also walked a few paces ahead of him.  Ren could make out a few figures standing meters ahead, and while his eyes blurred too much for him to get a definite clue of who they were, the mere fact that the figures were not yet shambling towards them meant that they were not part of the undead.  That offered a slight respite, at least.

The golem's sudden crash against the walls of Nadska drew Ren's attention, his eyebrow raising in exhausted confusion before he moved towards Devlin.  He dragged his feet against the concrete earth before finally managing to catch up to the rogue who looked just as messed up and terrible as he was.  The once fierce and confident visage she possessed a few moments ago was now only the ghost of a distant memory, replaced by a sickly pallor which crept all over her face.  He really could not muster any strength to produce any signs, but as they reached at least a few feet away from the gathering of the survivors, Ren could pick out a few of their conversations.

Most of their topics as well as their body languages suggested that they were itching to leave this god-forsaken place, and he could not blame them.  But, for Ren, this place was all he had ever known for the last months or so.  Where would they go?  What was the assurance that the undead had not taken up shelter in the caress of the trees, ready to pounce on unsuspecting drifters?

The lad glanced at Devlin once more, and a moment of clarity dawned on him.  He would not leave this woman.  Aside from his curiosity to find out what exactly in Heren's name caused [i]that[/i] event to transpire, he had also developed some sort of camaraderie with this woman.  He enjoyed being with her, and if anything, he felt safer knowing that she kept an eye out for Ren's back.

He could only wish that she thought the same.

When he managed to at least get in front of her, Ren raised his arms to start signing.  [i]'What do we do?'[/i]  He grimaced, using the word 'we' as if there was a definite unit which consisted of him and her.  [i]'They plan to leave.  Where do we find safe place?'[/i]

He so wanted to talk to her about what had happened; how he desired to know more about the truth of who she was and what she had done to him, but all that gratitude and adoration would have to come later.  Before he would pour his thoughts and gratitude on her, he wanted to make sure that they could continue to breathe even until the morrow.