For a moment Matteo wondered-- as he had before, during the darkest hours of his Thief training-- if it wouldn’t be easier to just die. Give up. Spurn whatever force had whispered that [i]Awaken[/i] into his empty mind and return to that cryptic slumber. The stress, the pressure, the encroaching menace… [i]It’s too much. I can’t. I just… can’t.[/i] He didn’t care. He just wanted to close his eyes and sink to the bottom of the river, let the waters drown out the sounds of Muu’s quiet sobs and the approaching predator.

...But it wasn’t safe. Lethargy was a luxury. Fear was stronger than despair and shock. At the end of the day, underneath concussions and moral quandaries, Matteo was not a Thief. He was hardly even human. He was just an animal--no better than the headless beast they’d slain, fighting for his life. 

Fear quickened his blood, but not his mind. His vision was still distorted, deluded, and the bedraggled youth barely crawled over to the two girls from the streambed without sliding back into the tainted waters. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, sickened by the faint taste of rabbit. Blood dripped from his fingertips. [b]“Hate to… bring it up…”[/b] he muttered, swallowing heavily as the world seemed to spin around him. [i]Pardon me if I’m not feeling as eloquent as usual.[/i] 

Taking short, shallow breaths to make it through the rambling thought-- never mind the pain-- he continued [b]“Something’s… coming. I think. Ash, how do we… lead us away from here… we have to…”[/b] To run, to hide, to lose whatever it was. Fighting to stay calm, to stay clear, Matteo delivered his last sentence. [b]“We… might want to hurry.”[/b] He wouldn’t run away without them. Not when it might mean making himself an even bigger target, like wounded prey splitting off from the group to be picked off.