The sudden, reverberating echoes of an explosion blew thoughts of anything but imminent danger from Semyon's mind. He shouldn't be hearing such sounds, not here. The keep was well-defended, the most secure safehouse of the company.
Yet it was under attack.
Swiftly loading his pistol once more, Semyon dropped the few magazines he had not managed to load with new rounds into his ammo box and packed it back into his bag. Prepped magazines were slipped into the ammo holster under his right shoulder and the interior pockets of his coat, before the duffel bag was slung over his shoulders and it's strap ripped tight. No risking it falling off or jostling now, the bag pinned his coat to his back, the Wight wasting on a couple seconds to ensure the strap would not get in the way should he need to reload.
That done, he broke into a sprint, slamming the door open and swinging his weapon up as he turned into the hall. No one greeted him, so he kept running, pounding down the hallway as his mind churned over what little information he had. Explosions and chaos, someone had breached the outer security, and so were likely well-prepared for an attack. His comrades were separated and unprepared, which meant ensuring their safety and gathering them together was the first priority. Tamarind, the older werewolf, Max -or Thadd- had been in the hall before, along with Nestor and Gabriel, and might still be there. They were first priority, then, once gathered they could move as a group to find the rest-
One of the grand windows shattered as Semyon entered the hall, causing him to take a sudden step back, gun and gaze snapping upwards.
Glass was all he saw, a grand shower coming down before him. He sidestepped away from the cascade, angling himself so his left shoulder was all-but brushing the nearby wall, allowing him to view almost the entire hall and those within. Pale eyes darted as he back-stepped along the wall, noting those comrades present while simultaneously scanning for anyone who might threaten them. No foe made an appearance, only the sudden, echoing roar of a newly-changed Tamarind. It was a sound that demanded his attention, and he found his own voice rising to follow in it's wake.
"Group up- Stay Grouped!"
He moved away from the wall, noting all who were near Tamarind. Max -or Thadd?- the older werewolf, as well as Henry Grimm were accounted for, a group already made and waiting. It gave Semyon a goal, and he aimed right for it.
His right hand was locked around his Stechkin, angling the weapon downwards slightly, but ready to raise it at the first sign it was needed. Empty, his left hand rested just in front of his chest in a loose fist, ready to lash out to grab, parry, or jab at an attacker. His legs continued to move, his eyes continuing to dart about, the tactics of combat now the sole thoughts one could find in his mind.
"You are all unharmed?" He gave a cursory glance over each, before returning his gaze to the area around. "Move as one. We should gather who we can first, better chance of defeating this attack."