[center][h2][color=A52A2A]Vincent Cawler[/color][/h2][/center]

Lying on the floor throughout the back-and-forth between the other 'intruders' and Pondwater, Vincent had trouble getting his bearings, or even getting up. On top of the guards' incredible strength, they were brutal; just by shifting on the ground he could tell that he had at least two broken ribs and muscles too bruised to pull himself to his feet. For all intents and purposes he was down for the count. The conversation passed him by as he focused on recuperating, his head swimming in pain, dazed and confused.

Then monsters happened.

There wasn't a better way to describe it, at least for Vincent. One moment there were the guards, big and dark like living shadows pulled from the walls, and the next there were beasts, magnificent and terrifying in their form. It helped center Vincent's thoughts, at least. The shock and fear pushed through the pain-induced haze, snapping awareness back into him. But the surge of energy didn't help [i]that[/i] much, since, well, he was still beaten half to death. He struggled to get back on his feet, slipping at the simple task of pushing off the ground as the rest started to run. His only hope was that these animal-looking monsters had the instincts to chase after prey instead of going for easy pickings.

To his surprise, though, Vincent wasn't abandoned to fend for himself. Not entirely, at least. One of the group, a punk-rock looking kid, stooped down and hoisted Vincent up onto his shoulders, to the best of his ability anyway. Their difference in height made it hard, Vincent's tall stature throwing Dakota off balance, but he sure as hell tried. Vincent's mind drifted again; so long kept to himself, sheltered away and never given a second thought. This one simple act of kindness, selflessness... connected to something, somewhere, deep in his heart.

As the two "ran" towards the entrance again, Vincent managed to sway himself onto his feet, the movement and adrenaline helping to mask the pain of it. The amalgamated cranes - the Shaxes, if Vincent heard Pondwater right - flocked to the gate, blocking their path. A thought crossed Vincent's mind, making him almost roll his eyes. Sure, he'd already hurled himself into a possible threat before, but now the 'possible' had turned into 'very much a'. But, again, something tugged at his brain. He wasn't just doing it for his own life, this time. Someone else had helped him. So, he had to help back.

Pushing himself off from Dakota, freeing the younger guy from his weight, Vincent leaned into the momentum of their wobbly stagger of an escape and charged at one of the Shaxes. It was a fight stacked against him, and when that happens, because it usually did happen, you fought dirty. A quick jab at the bird's red eye, two fingers out to really make it sting and, in the ensuing startle, toppling the thing off balance. He turned back to Dakota, Barney, and the others for a quick enough moment to shout.

"Run!"

Not that anyone needed the encouragement.