[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=39b54a]William Fraser[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://bookesther.files.wordpress.com/2017/02/john-thornton-smile-gif.gif?w=500[/img][/center][hr][hr][center][color=39b54a][b]Location:[/b][/color] [b]Gretna Green[/b]
[color=39b54a][b]Skills:[/b][/color] [b]N/A[/b] [/center][hr]

	William knew that the Russians had been seeking holy ground, and he was glad to see that their aims still aligned, as he saw that the flamboyant Russian horseman had reached the church. Although in truth, the haze that seemed to still cling the town hardly made it easy to see what was going on. He assumed that the shape rising above the surrounding houses was a church, and he didn't see any alternative to that assumption, so he would have to work with what he had. He kept a tight grip on Millicent's hand, tugging her towards the building. The crowds seemed to be thinning now, as people continued to flee into their homes. Panic still filled the air though, and William had to fight to keep his own composure. Whatever was causing the very fabric of the world to shift and warp, it was unlike anything William had ever experienced. If something was causing, or someone, then they held a power greater than anything William had witnessed before. If William couldn't kill it, then he sure as hell hoped he could outrun it. 

	The church suddenly loomed above the unlikely pair, and William urged Millicent towards the doors as best he could. If he had had the time to look at himself in that moment, he would have laughed. William would gladly accept plaudits for his charisma and courage, both of them had been tested more times than he could count after all. But he was self-centered, and ultimately vain. He was good-looking and talented after all, he was allowed a little vanity. And yet some part of himself always seemed to rear it's head when he wanted it least. Some heroic intent, the same heroic intent that saw him willingly putting Millicent's survival above his own. He would never willingly admit it, but he valued that heroic intent, because it was the part of himself that was most like his mother. 

	William glanced over his shoulder as they reached the doors, half-expecting to see Rutherford at their back, but if the creature was close, then William saw no sign of him, although that hardly put William at ease. Until he had the stone walls of the church between himself and whatever Rutherford was, he wasn't going to relax his grip on the handle of his Dirk, or Millicent's hand. As he did what he could to watch their surroundings, he gestured to Millicent. 

	[color=39b54a][b]"Get inside, I'll watch our backs."[/b][/color]