‘ luckily , i don’t get scared easily" (cue an owl hooting and immediete scooby doo jumping into arms)
The moon hangs high overhead her bright light choked by smoggy clouds above sliced by gnarled branches. There must’ve been something inherently wicked about the place for even Teufort’s denizens with all of their lead poisioned bravado chose to keep its distance. He could’ve waved off the superstition, he’d been brought to similar places before in youth. A lifetime ago on these very same place when he’d been addressed by name instead of title and told of the wicked creatures that haunted the grounds when the only ones creeping around were them. It doesn’t stop the hairs on the back of his neck from rising, the slow creeping chill in his bones that couldn’t entirely be blamed on weather. Muffled words cut through the constant snap and crunch of dead things underfoot.
He’s thankful for the Pyro’s company beside him, the occasional bump of shoulder to shoulder in the dark. Someone known, a solid variable. “Gosh, ain’t I th’ lucky one? I’m downright terrifi-” The jest cuts short, arms instinctually open and ready for the Pyro shaped weight that finds himself in his arms. The Engineer teeters only once under the suddenness before gaining steady footing. He totes thousands of pounds of precision engineered steel across the battlements and he hefts this new bundle with ease. For a still moment he quiets listening for... for what? A ghostly wail? He shakes his head. Ridiculous.
“’s alright, firebug, we’ll jus’ keep goin’ one step at a time ‘n be outta here lickty split.” A pause, brow lifting to look at the Pyro his grin both wry and amused. “Yers or mine?”
