Ellie flew over Seb through the forested section, as he skidded the skis, giving her room as he carved around some trees, keeping serpantine but dodging trees left and right, knowing they were darting around, and it felt like it wasn't going to end.

Coming back into the light of the resort, he chuckled, letting Ellie keep the lead, as he disengaged the stupidly bright light, coming further down towards the base. Both going slower now, he skiied alongside, chuckling.
"You still got it!" 

--------------

Ross looked to him, coughing a little and covering it with his elbow, covered in cuts and bruises, his ankle hurting a hell of a lot, his legs hurt in general, but he was pretty sure it wasn't broken, despite the painkillers. The Rossi family were a scary bunch. Given Ross had no brothers or sisters to talk of, the fact that Kimberly's family was so widespread and all made up of elite, crazy and hardcore motherfuckers was impressive. They were a nice bunch, but Ross had always made a mental note to never, ever get on their bad side. And he'd always treated her like golddust, kept his past away and followed what she wanted to do, sometimes bringing her into the safer parts of his past. 

Michael was a scary man indeed, a frightening character, even for the Scotsman to take in, as he took a moment to think of a response, wanting to start from the beginning.

"Kimberly took a run for an unknown contact and brought me along. High end. We were taking unknown packages for an unknown contractor. We still have no idea who that is, but it's a standard job we do. Pays very, very well. Cops are the biggest problem. We didn't expect what we ran into." Ross said, almost spluttering at times, as he was still quite weak. Whilst they probably all agreed he had gotten off lightly compared to Kimberly, he was still battered, and in no fit state to stand, given how much blood he'd lost. He had several transfusions, and probably had no idea of what had happened after he'd passed out. Numerous scars and stitches existed across his upper ribs and he had taken a serious hit, but he would recover with time, given no serious fractures had occured, and he had mostly had to deal with wounds from smashed glass and blunt impact force.

"She got recruited by a group in Los Angeles, who were sponsoring a street race we were brought into. Whoever they were, they wanted her on board, and I came along, because they needed a second driver. This sort of work doesn't attract much attention, for good reason. Safe to say, that didn't happen." Ross added, shaking his head.
"All I remember, I tried to stop one of the GMCs going into her. I crashed into one, side-on and T-boned my Focus. I passed out and woke up in a smashed up car, crawled out, and tried to call for an ambulance. But not before...well, a couple of suited guys, they kicked me over and knocked me out. Left me to die" Ross said, sharp and distinct in his words with what he saw as he tried to remember.
"One guy had an accent, Hispanic, I can't remember. But they were well dressed. Like not Cartel boys, they were serious motherfuckers." Ross added, sitting up, his ribs hurting as he did, feeling like he was dragging his body more than moving it. 

"How is she? I got told she's stable but apart from that...I don't know anything specific."