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With the extraction point in sight, Quinn couldn't help but be relieved he at least had tangible orders to fall back on now - it felt like the entire operation had been a string of him being tugged in every direction at once. [i]Watch the door, Quinn. Handle the reinforcements, Quinn. Rescue the prisoner, Quinn. Pick me up, Quinn. Get everyone outside, Quinn. Let the crazy man electrocute you for the greater good, Quinn.[/i] It wasn't a new experience for the mage, but it was the first where he needed to react in milliseconds rather than minutes and the consequence of failure was death rather than shame.

Quinn's pupils blew wide as he broke from the building into the night, eyes adapting to the darkness preternaturally quick as the door behind him slammed shut to cut off the light from inside. A horrible grinding noise drew his attention back briefly, in expectation of one less threat to bar him from escape, but he saw only the door's frame writhing against itself to seal off the path they'd come from. He wasn't sure who did it, and at this point, he didn't care; he simply drew Dylan close and tugged his weightless arms around his neck to carry the unconscious mage like a cape on his back as he kept up his retreat. He didn't dare stop moving until forest coiled around him and even magical vision pushed to its limit couldn't pierce the shadow that held them in its cold embrace.

And then it was gone, and he was getting more orders.

Just drop him on the ground? Just like that? Quinn couldn't say he'd been particularly gentle with the prisoners beforehand himself, but without the threat of magical retribution hanging over his head, he'd expected a bit more dignity would be warranted. It was almost an insult to all the trouble they went through to get him out of there. Freedom for mages, what a joke; he was less disposable back home.

Delicately, he lowered Dylan onto the ground and propped the mage's arm underneath his head. Shouldn't the prisoners have been the life mage's first priority? Quinn finally took the opportunity to look around. Everyone was accounted for, fortunately, and nobody seemed to be bleeding out. The vampires looked a little worse for wear, but they carried themselves with all the tenacity he'd expect of a noble hunter of the night and the life mages wouldn't be able to fix that anyway. Quinn himself was a bit battered, and he suspected the other mages faired much the same, but soreness and bruises could be managed with rest. They didn't need to make it sound like they'd done him a favor by involving a life mage in this operation. 

Food didn't sound very appetizing either. He knew he should eat, that he was exhausted and that he'd regret it the following morning, but even something as inoffensive as stew turned his stomach when he thought about it. Quinn gulped down the saliva pooling in his throat. He'd throw up if he thought about this too much.

[color=a366ff]"Look at the prisoners first, 'm not hurt. Need to sit down,"[/color] Quinn mumbled in an attempt to ward off any unneeded attention as he staggered toward the cottage. Every moment out of danger made his body feel heavier, as whatever panic chemicals had flooded his body moments ago now exacted a toll for their services. He had a feeling that a glance into a mirror right about now would reveal the pale, disheveled Quintus he'd grown used to over the past few months. Once again, just like home. But worse. Was their silly little grudge against vampirekind really worth [i]this[/i]?

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