//CLOSED -Private- Eye of the Storm

Christine smiled softly as she felt the wind brush against her face and blow what little hair was showing out from underneath her hat. She had to put it back on due to the fact that she was going to the village. She had asked a random student if they knew anywhere she could buy things, informed that there was a little village close by, and then she set out on this little trek.

She had a bright smile on her face and a skip in her step at the thought of what her trip was for. She didn't have much money, but she knew he would enjoy it. She clung to her diary, having carried it around with her every day since she received it...the pages almost filled.

Logan had instilled a new love for art in her, she wanted to repay him for that. She had a moments thought that she might be going a bit overboard and that he might think her gift was too intrusive or flashy and it had even occurred to her that he might hate it...but she thought it would be a good way to draw him out of his shell a bit more.

She had hoped that she could afford a nice one for him, knowing that he would use it often, but she never let any of her doubts or worries fade her smile. She moved along the quite road, keeping her steps light. She had peeked out the window of her room before she left to see if it was going to storm. The weather here was so unpredictable, but it reminded her of home. Overcast skies and cool rainy days left her feeling more like a cat and wanting to nap all day long and lounge around. However, today the sun had been shining and she felt confident and peppy enough to venture outdoors, but now that she was out, the weather had changed quickly on her and the sky overcasted. She could handle a little rain...

She wasn't that far away from the school so she decided to push ahead, humming a soft tune in her head as the skies continued to stay about the same. As she got about a mile down the path, the skies turned on her, they darkened to a deep gray and thunder could be heard rumbling through them. Her surroundings became darker and she became a bit frightened, but the storm still hadn't started and the wind picked up. She hoped that the wind would push the storm over and it would miss her completely or just give her a light sprinkle. She hoped.

She picked up her pace nevertheless, deciding to keep pushing forward, hoping that the village wasn't far away, feeling that she's walked further than she actually had. She still hadn't met anyone on the road along the way and it hinted in her mind that she might have taken the wrong path, or missed something completely and veered off and she was now lost. The more she thought about it, the more panicked she became. She could feel her heart beat wildly, her breathing increase, her thoughts racing through her mind. She had to mentally stop herself, and to do that she had to physically stop. She paused for a moment with her steps and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to get herself aligned properly. Everyone probably sought shelter when the storm pushed overhead and that's why there's no one here.

As she mentally willed herself to believe her feeble attempts at comfort, she kept a keen eye out for any sign of shelter for herself. It had started to sprinkle, just lightly, but she had no doubt now that it would come down harder and soon. She kept her pace quick but not enough to look like she was running, as that would panic her more and she had just put herself down from a heightened state.

She had seen overhanging trees, dense enough to possibly keep her dry from the rain, but not if it came down hard enough and with the wind blowing through, it would feel like needles stinging through her skin. Then she saw it, it was small and disheveled and almost beaten down, but at least the little shack** was still standing and had a roof. She silently thanked whoever was looking down on her as the rain instantly poured down, drenching her hat, jacket and part of her pants.

She wrenched the door open, the rusty hinges making it stiff and hard to open. She got inside and shivered, water dripping from her hair. She tugged her hat off for a mere second and rang out what little water she could and placed it back on her head, her ears twitching irritably at being not only wet, but now squashed too. The wind whistled as the shack stood it its way, creaking and cracking under it's force. The rain pelted the roof wildly and she could see streams of water sneaking their way through the cracks that were probably there even after this thing was first built. She was wet, and cold and alone, as the sky continued to get darker and darker and she was afraid she would have to stay here all night. She shivered at the thought, or maybe the cold, not knowing if she would be safe here.

She sat down on the ground, finding the driest place she could and she hugged her knees tightly to her chest, resting her chin on them, hoping the storm would pass over quickly, hoping it wouldn't blow her or the little shack away and hoping she could make it back home before dark. She closed her eyes and whispered silently to no one in particular to watch over her, but secretly she was whispering to Martha to make sure she was safe.

** link (ignore the snow)

"Talk about a pit on my own luck..." A wet, grimy voice would say as he felt the rain splash over his head, drenching his entire body in a matter of a few seconds. Talk about his luck indeed. Talk about all the crap he had been through over the past few months he had been at Caislin Hallows. On multiple accounts he had fought creatures he never understood, been manipulated to the point of near extinction, and nearly killed a few innocents in the process. His mind was going a muck, but deep down he knew that he had no place else to go. He could feel the monster within him stirring, churning beneath it's chains of slumber as it would try to figure out it's next move to get out. To release it's fury on the world. But Riley wouldn't let it. He knew what triggered it, it was that damn blood vile that spewed from the veins of those awful, disgusting creatures called vampires.

Nevertheless, what was originally planned to be an open incursion of walking around and killing time before he had to go into work turned out to be a fiasco where he was caught in a downpour during the middle of the day. Cringing to the wet, soppy, feeling his body exerted he continued to trut his way from the village to the school. But halfway down the road, a downpour encased his body in a matter of seconds. You gotta love Irish weather! So he walked, even as his body began to soak and his fingers started to go numb, he kept walking. He was soaked from head to toe by the time he noticed small shack off in the distance. He knew he wasn't going to make it and if he didn't get dry soon he was going to freeze to death.

Gritting his teeth, he decided it was best to sit in soppy clothes for a few hours than to have to worry about amputating another one of his limbs.

So he walked up to the shack, in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere. Why the heck it was there, he had no idea. But it was luck it was there, and luck he shall have. Hopefully this will be the golden goose that will get him out of the trenches long enough to survive this god forsaken place. Taking steps towards the door, he noticed that the footprints that lead upto the little shack. Small footprints. Either a big boy or a small grown woman. It would seem he was not the only one seeking shelter during this storm. Taking his approach cautiously, he would walk upto the door and give it a brisk knock and then open the door with his free hand.

Walking into the abode, he merely boomed his voice so that if some crazy old man was living there with a shotgun, he wasn't going to get his head blown off. "Hey its kinda wet out there, mind if I-" And... there was a girl, sitting in the corner of the room trying to keep herself dry and warm. Tilting his head rather curiously, the door would slam shut behind him... sending a thundering roar through the entire shack. IT would take a moment for his eyes to focus, but he would see a rather familiar girl in the wake of the darkness. Awkward feelings would resonate as he noticed the distinct hair style and body type that laid cuddled in the darkness. It was ...

"Hi...." An awkward noise would slip past his lips. I mean, what else am I going to say to the girl who thinks I broke into her room to do... whatever people who break into a girls room do. Scratching the back of his head, he watched her with mild curiosity. He had a feeling a scream, a shout, or a charge was going to come his way... so he waited for the response to happen. No sense rushing to his impending doom.

So now what? A tiny little voice echoed in the back of his mind, pushing off the smart ass remark with an awkward shift in his step and a rather curious look on his face. He could run, right out of the door and skip away merriedly into the rain... but he knew with the elements, the way they were, it would be suicide. He wouldn't make it back without the heavy risk of hypothermia or death. His chances of survival were in this room, with a girl who looked upon him like he was a serial rapist axe murder chain-saw sadist. Even from the doorway, he could feel her fear resonating from her. He felt a pang in his chest, like a father does to their son, when he they watch their own child recoil in fear of abuse or torture. He held back his own emotion, his own pleading worries, his own advances. From where she sat, she was the farthest away from the door and he was blocking any path for her to escape.

But all he could initially do was evaluate the situation, and not mutter a word in response. He was lost in his own whims and wills... he didn't even know where to start.

Nevertheless, from her shivering he could tell that she was freezing. He was wearing a jacket, although soaking wet, it would drip dry fairly quickly. But he he had no idea how he would be able to convince her to move closer to put on the jacket, let alone do anything to help warm her up. Reaching into his pocket, he would pull out a small pocket flashlight and turn the little gizmo on... shining the room with light. Pulsating the light around the room, he would search frantically for a blanket or something to burn. Pooling the light behind her head, he noticed a few cardboard boxes behind her. Diverting the gaze of light temporarily, he asked. "If you are cold, I can make a small fire in here to keep us warm. There seems to be a cardboard box and maybe a few dry pieces of wood behind you. If you want, we can trade places while I rummage for firewood material?" He would wait patiently for her to move, if she allowed it, and leave the jacket off dripping nearby. In a few moments it would be dry enough to use to keep someone warm.

Dripping wet, Riley would wait for a response, giving the girl access to the front door if she wanted to be able to escape. He didn't want to box the girl in, but he had no idea how he was going to explain what was going on. But before he would be able to do any of that kind of pizazz, they needed to get warm... and she really didn't look the type that would be wanting to cuddling him for warmth. IT would seem like she would rather cuddle with a wild boar than to get within 10 feet of him.

The silence of the room was so ever bitter and hurtful, it would cause nasty little vibes to crawl right up his spine. But he would wait patiently for the girl who shivered in the cold to give him enough clearing so that he could make his way to rummaging into their small supply stash to see if he could keep them warm. Seeing the girl shuffle to the side did bring a sigh of relief on his lips, but he withheld any joyous breakthrough dances for later. Seeing her continue to shiver made him feel devilishly awful, but he wasn't ready just yet to bleed his heart out to her. If she wanted to talk about feelings, she would have better luck with cuddling with the wild boar. Nevertheless, he felt as if he was making the situation ten times worse with the silence. Picking up his windbreaker jacket, which was mostly dry now, he would roll it up in a ball and take it with him to the corner of the room. Noticing her little shivers did bring a spike of mercy in his forte, so letting himself slide a bit he me tossed the jacket close to her so that it landed nearly a foot from her.

"It's cold, so... " Mimicking like he was putting on an invisible jacket, after a second he merely shook his head and went to rummaging through the cardboard stacks to find the materials he needed to start the fire. "Let's see here... " Fingering his way through the wreckage, he was careful to watch where his hands went and what he was looking for. He knew this building was old and he would like to not get bitten by spiders or any other wild creature that would probably make this their home. It was like an oasis in the middle of the desert, no matter how crappy it would be to rest in. "Here is a tough cardboard box..." Tossing it to the side, he pulled out a few pieces of broken wood and a magazine that had a cover of a fairly old super model. "Isn't she someone's mom?" Saying that aloud to no one in particular, he heard a clink of glass nearby. "Ohhh... I hope this is what I think it is..." Reaching down, he shook off a few cobwebs to pull out a small dusty bottle and a few bowls of various sizes from the depths of the boxes.

Turning around, he smiled towards her as he kicked all of the flammable objects to the corner... placing down a larger bowl and a smaller bowl. Hoping to see her curiosity, he motioned her forward as he gave her a little lesson in fire making. "Now normally... making a fire out of wood inside of a house is a rather dangerous move. So instead, we have to do a little experimentation so that we don't smoke ourselves out or catch the whole place on fire. " Standing back up, he would pick up the two bowls he need. Turning towards her, he would pace around her... giving her PLENTY of clearance, before opening the door into the soaking air. Water would splash into the doorway, but Riley would stand in front of it as he stuck both of his hands out of the shack to let water gather in the bowls. Gritting his teeth, he merely shook away the water that collected on his face and neck when both of the bowls were nearly full.

Returning inside, he would place the bowls in the center of the room, one bowl in the other, before going back outside to shut the door. He was now soaking wet once again, staying near the doorway he would ring out small clumps of hair and his soaked shirt. Fun times. Sitting down in front of the bowls, he would reach over and grab the bottle of an unnamed alcohol and uncork it... taking a whiff and repelling almost instantly. "God... this stuff is probably unsafe to drink." But the more concentrated, the better, so he would CAREFULLY pour a single shot of alcohol ontop of the small bowl of water, filling up the contents of the inner bowl to about 3/4s from the top. Corking the bottle once again, he set it to the side and wipe his hands off on his shirt. He needed dry hands for this. Tearing off a page from the magazine, he would pull out a lighter from his pocket and flip the light several times before the magazine caught flame... giving him a small punt stick.

Putting the lighter back into his pocket, he would reach over with the flaming stick and press it gently over the top of the water. Instantly the magazine would burn up over the exposed area on the small bowl as the small bowl took aflame. But instead of it being a nice yellow flame, it was a nice pristine blue flame that danced evenly on the bowl before him. Motioning her closer, he would keep his hands at a safe distance as the warmth began to wash over him. "This should last for a bit, and we have enough alcohol to keep it going for a while. Why don't you move a little closer? Just don't put your hands closer than a foot from the flame. Blue flames mean very hot. " Rubbing his hands very quickly, he could feel the warmth returning to his right digits... as his left was made of solid steel encased in fake flesh.

Scooting his body closer to the flame, he could feel the warmth enveloping him. The blue flames seemed to be mending his own soul, burning at an even rate so that the entire room started to bask in its eerie glow. For a moment, there was silence. He wanted to give Christine time to warm up and relax before he started blabbing on why he was in her room. It felt like the most opportune time, and he hated to harbor that kind of agony in his chest. Once more, he saw a little helpless girl in the woman to sat before him, cuddling up in his own jacket for warmth, eying the flame with immediate curiosity. At least this time, his surprise visit brought her a little joy instead of a stubbed finger and him with a slash along his arm. He kind of wanted to open the conversation with that, but before he could put the words past his lips... he would hear her say softly.

"I can give you your jacket back if your cold...I can always put mine back on."

Tilting his head towards the side, he would look to see that her jacket was in a rumple in the corner of the room. He could of sworn he heard the sickening slap of soaking wet coat when she dropped it onto the floor earlier, so he merely sighed and shook his head. "I would be a monster if I were to put you back in your soaking wet jacket. Besides, that thing doesn't keep me very warm. Its just another small shirt on me." It was a lie, and he knew it, as he saw her cuddling into the warmth like a small child to a mother's bosom. Taking his hands, he would spread the warmth to his body by crossing his arms and rubbing his sides gently. It would of been better if he could at least be sitting in something dryer, but he had a feeling the girl would flip her buttons if he sat near the flames wearing nothing more than his boxers and undershirt.

Another awkward silence followed. Only his eyes would dance to the flames. It would seem like hours have passed by, as the only sound in the room was the pitter patter of rain drops on the outside.

Gritting his teeth, he started to lose his patience with the awkward ordeal. Groaning underneath the cold and dampness that clung to his body, he scratched the back of his head as he immediately burst into explanation. "Look, it was me who entered your room that night unattended. I dunno what happened, but for some reason I slept walk to your room and opened the damn door with the master key I had in my pocket. I awoke in your room and freaked the fuck out. I mean hell, you were charging me and I didn't know what else to do. I rushed out of your room in fear... and I apologize greatly." There was a pause in his statement, where he would sigh deeply and add. "I ditched the master key in my office for now on, locked up in a combination safe. I did that just in case I were to pull that stunt again. " He wasn't fully lying, but in the end he meant every word of it. He blacked out. There was no way of explaining it any other way.

In a final cry, he shivered deeply and added "Damn it, its cold over here. Can you stop looking at me like I am some kind of rapist and sit next to me so I don't freeze to death?" A bit demanding, but he was cold. He was tired. And he was a little irate. Nevertheless, if he didn't get his body warmer he was probably going to get sick. He hated being sick. Meant a whole lot of nothing for several days straight. If she were to take off his jacket and toss it over to him, he would hand it back to her and shake his head. It wouldn't help him. His entire BODY was soaked. It would take shared body heat to fix that problem. Or for him to strip naked. Ho... the possibilities.

Now, he was shivering at this point. Opening the door plus the little pocket holes of air that managed to creep into the rickety and abandoned house made him shift and stir with dislike. He was an idiot for standing out in the rain again to fetch the water they needed, so now all of his clothes were soaked and she was wearing the only possible dry article of clothing in this entire dump. Of course, he gave it to her without too much complaint... as he felt responsible for her in some kind of sick, twisted sideshow, but deep down he still held a compassion for those who looked like they were in serious trouble. A little girl, lost in the woods, huddled for warmth in front of an open flame he provided now was pressing her body towards him for warmth. It sent shivers down his spine, causing him to shake a bit uncontrollably... but only for a moment. He would feel her tiny body sharing her warmth, bringing him slowly back out of his nervous jitters.

He might play many of cards to his chest, but he was still a man. He still had feelings. He still had doubts and fears. But give him a gun and a direction, he would charge forward to destroy any enemies that lay waste in his path.

Nevertheless, the cold of the night was wicked. Even if she brought warmth to him, he still ached and was still freezing. But he would press on, like a good soldier, keeping his mind clean and clear. The funny thing was, once he had yelled out his apology in a mad rush to yank it off of his chest... he really didn't have much else to talk about in that moment. Talk about a limited social butterfly, but if it was not about guns or explosions there really was not much he could say along the lines of keeping the cold out of their minds. All that was screaming in his mind was that he wished there was a blanket of some sort so he could bundle them both in it, trapping the escaping warmth, and possibly convincing her to allow to to strip down to his wife beater and undershorts. He would just have to make due until the rain stopped. He hated awkward silences.

Letting an arm drape behind her body, he would rest his hand on the ground on the other side of her form... allow her to cuddle closer to his body if she allowed it so. In a blank mind, he started to fish through a few stories that he had heard at camp, heard when he was in rehab. But there was not a whole lot he remembered... it sucked not having 17 years of memories to help inflate the mood around here. Even so, as he felt her warmth on his body he started to remember a story from long ago. Something he remembered telling his younger sisters about. A story about...a lame dog.

In a soft, hushed voice he began his story. "My father... told me this story when I was a kid. And when I grew up, and my sisters grew up, I told the story to them. Bear with me... I really do not remember the whole tale." And so he began a story about a dog with a lame leg. It was set in a booming city somewhere in the distant stars where a group of construction workers would, everyday, sit around their work benches eating lunch. While they ate lunch, every day a dog would come in. It was an old yeller kind of dog, a bark that sounded like a roo-roo-roo (He made the doggy voice sound real) every time it called in surprise or complaint. But what made the dog special was the fact it had it always walked with a limp, where it's front right paw was damaged from somewhere they never knew. All they knew was that the dog would come in everyday for lunch, giving playful calls in order to be fed by the construction workers. The construction workers would feed the dog table scraps and play with it before their lunch break ended, where the dog would march happily away with a full stomach after licking all of their hands with excitement. The construction workers were working on a plant designed to create light bulbs for the surrounding cities... and the man in charge was a grubby man named Phillip Leeroy. Well, Mr. Leeroy was heavy on the codes that protected the construction plant to the point where he issued fines if his men were not wearing their hardhats... even in the bathroom!

But Mr. Leeroy had his purposes, hidden behind a rough mask, was an innocent man a victim of his child being killed due to poor construction codes in his own home. He did it to protect his workers. He did it to keep him sane.

Well one day, as the workers were leaving their lunch break, Mr. Leeroy saw the dog rushing through a hole at the dig site. Mr. Leeroy was furious, demanding to know whose dog it was and where it came from. But the workers didn't know, believing the dog was just a normal stray that showed up during the break hours of the work day. Well, Mr. Leeroy was a crafty one... and followed with his eyes to where the dog managed to get into the site. So the following afternoon, he plugged several holes in the fences where he suspected the dog to get in, to prevent old yeller from getting in.

But the next day during lunch hours, Mr. Leeroy was at his desk managing paperwork when he heard the familiar yaps of a dog rushing around in the staff area of the lot, begging for food and playing fetch with one of the workers. Angry, he would slam down his own lunch in his office and kick open the trailer door to find out who let the dog in. But as he came towards the compound, the dog would catch site of the man and go rushing off and disappear behind some of the construction equipment... where the faint sounds of the roo-roo-roos would be heard off in the distance.


Pausing, he would turn to see if the girl was listening. It was a weird story, but he was just saying what was on his chest.

While he told his story, he could feel her shifting closer and closer to his body as the rain continued to pitter and patter against the poor woodworks of the building. Even as the warmth began to flow through him, he could feel her growing closer and closer to his body. It was nearly the end of his first part of the story where she tried to drape the jacket around his shoulder and hers, bringing a slight sense of a smirk to his eyes. She was trying, but once again it would not help the fact that the jacket did not hold a lot of heat in. It was designed to keep the wind and rain off. Nevertheless, when she tried to drape it, he merely shook his head and tried his best to put it back around her shoulders. "I will be fine..." Although he was a bit on the lithe side, he was broad shouldered and could retain his heat easier than the girl who had an extremely small frame. Nevertheless, she continued to move closer to his body... to the point where she was leaning on his chest and listening to his story.

She was starting to fall asleep, and that part began to worry him.

"Please don't stop....what happened next?"

Scratching the back of his head, he merely smiled and said "For me to continue the story, you are going to have to do me a favor..." When she had her full, yet weak, attention, he would untuck his legs and spread them out where his legs almost straddled the flame nearly a foot away from the tips of his feet. "If you fall asleep, your natural body heat will drop.... which increases your chances of hypothermia. I know of ways to keep myself awake, but I have a feeling you are going to be passing out before I finish the story. " Patting the space inbetween his legs, he gave her a soft smile and added. "I know you do not think of me very much right now... but the alternative is jumping jacks to keep warm. I have a feeling that will only last for so long." He would wait, patiently, for her to take the step to drape herself into the cocoon he created. He wouldn't force her. He wouldn't touch her. He would wait, with quivering legs from the cold, for her to get herself situated.

Of course, there were OTHER ways to keeping warm, but he felt icky already with the slightly damp clothing he was wearing. Besides, the images of his sister kept floating to her head. He knew she was not her, but it gave him that feeling that she was his responsibility. If Christine did not want to move, he would try to wrap his arm around her shoulder and try to keep her warm. If she managed to crawl into the cocoon he created, he would try to wrap his arms around her chest and squeeze his legs to each side of her body... keeping his knee's arched and folded to increase the warmth in the center. Not only would this keep her warm, he could keep his more important bodily parts warm as well. Even with the cold that beckoned across his back, the warmth from the front would be more substantial than the way they were before.

IF she was cuddled up in the floor between his legs, he would try to pull her closer so that her back was pressed against his chest. He would also try to put his head just to the left of her ear, speaking softly so that he could decrease the heat escaping his lips. Once they were comfortable, he would continue the story.

Oh yes, Mr. Leeroy was mad that he saw Limpy the Dog running free and wild in his compound. But Mr. Leeroy was a crafty man. He knew better than to let a single mutt outsmart him again. 'Fool me once...' Mr. Leeroy would start, but realizing he had been fooled twice already... it was just time to put his crafty plan into action.

The next day, 20 minutes before lunch, Mr. Leeroy put a box of large crates near the dining area and had the men excavate the goods so that the crates were follow containers. Luckily, these crates opened at the side so that a large woman, or small man, could squeeze themselves into the box and seal themselves up. It was a hot afternoon, so Mr. Leeroy wore nothing more than a wife beater (which looked bad, by the way, because Mr. Leeroy was a rather pudgy man) and his back up slacks that needed to be washed. Armed with only a bottle of water and a neck-catcher on the outside, Mr. Leeroy waited in the depths of the box. Waiting patiently for his moment to strike. Waiting for his chance to capture Limpy the Dog. He was in the bottom of a pyramid of boxes, which would help conceal his hiding place, but even he knew it was against protocol to empty a bottom box without removing the boxes stacked up on top. But the wooden boxes seemed to hold firm and all he had to do was fix it before any inspectors arrived a few days later.

Only having to wait a few minutes in the hot box, the dog came rushing out roo-roo-roo ing (he did the sound effects there too) running around and doing laps around the construction workers on their lunch break. A few of the men hooped and hollered, the others tried to quiet the dog because they knew Mr. Leeroy was after the mutt. Hearing the roo-roo-roos, Mr. Leeroy quietly escaped the box and grab ahold of the neck catcher... walking quickly from the shadows with a raised neck holder in the air ready to strike.

Limpy the Dog was too busy eating a half eaten bologna sandwich from a construction worker in a red hat. Limpy the Dog did not see it coming when the wire was wrapped around the dogs neck. It had barely finished the sandwich when Limpy started roo roo rooing, and Mr. Leeroy tried to control the dog. 'STEP BACK! I've got this!' But Limpy, even though he only had 3 good legs, had two strong hind legs that could kick and squirm under the strength of the collar catcher. The dog would cough and squirm, trying to make its way around the boxes and tugging Mr. Leeroy with him. But Mr. Leeroy would grab ahold of the empty box he was hiding in earlier, using the strength of the tower to hold him in place as he waited for Limpy to calm down and relax against the strength of the hold.

But Limpy the Dog was pulling hard.

The box started to turn.

Mr. Leeroy put his right foot on the edge of the box to use it as a pivot to pull the dog back.

The box started to move some more.

And finally, in a burst of strength, Limpy relaxed the grip and pulled as hard as he could... Mr. Leeroy would lose the grip of the collared beast and stumble back a few feet, thudding his back against the loose crate.

Suddenly, a crack of wood could be heard from above. Mr. Leeroy would look up to see one of the boxes teetering, pain spiraling in his back, he was unable to move. The construction workers were yelling, telling Mr. Leeroy to get out of the way... as the boxes above were holding construction parts weighing nearly 300 pounds of solid nails. One single box could kill the man if it landed ontop of Mr. Leeroy. But as Mr. Leeroy began to turn, a sharp pain shot up his back causing him to cringe out in pain. He would brace the box for support, trying to use it as a crutch to move it out of the way. As his fingers touched the box, it gave the teetering box the final push it needed and it would fall over... falling at a few hundred feet per second towards Mr. Leeroy who was unable to move out of the way in time.

This time he paused, but for dramatic effect, waiting for the girl to call out like his sisters would scream in cries of despair or concern.

He could tell her body was becoming more relax as she could hear her breath softening underneath him. He knew this would happen, but it would be safe as long as HE didn't fall asleep. She was a bit cold, at first, struggling into his lap but as his story went on he could feel the warmth vibrating through her by licking his cold bones with that everlasting warmth. The flame would start to dwindle lightly when the story started to reach its closure, but he would have to wait for the light to go completely out before he added more alcohol. He didn't want to risk catching himself or Christine on fire. Fire would be bad. He would hear her sniffle and snuggle right into his lap, and when he dramatically paused, her only response was.

"Mr. Leeroy isn't a nice man. "

Scratching the back of his head, he added "Well, Mr. Leeroy is just trying to do his job. Even he doesn't want to have to remove the animal, but since there are dangerous equipment around the camp... the dog could accidentally hurt himself. But anyways..." Even with his dramatic paused ruin, he continued.

Mr. Leeroy, unable to move away from the falling box, would just stand there in fear but acceptance... waiting for the death of the item that he swore to prevent, come rushing down and crack open his skull. But what took minutes for him to realize his fate, a roo-roo-roo (made the noise) came rushing out of the shadows and tackled Mr. Leeroy out of the way. There would be a sickening crunch behind him as Mr. Limpy would yelp to the noise. Mr. Leeroy would be laying there, coughing, sputtering in pain, but he was alive. Opening his eyes was Limpy the dog, sputtering the man with hot breath and a wagging tail. When Mr. Leeroy would open his mouth to say a word of complaint, the dog would lean forward and and begin to shower the man in big doggy kisses... whining as it did so. Mr. Leeroy would merely push the dog's face out of the way and try to sit up... only to see the articles of items that littered the ground in front of him. Just a few inches in front of his right foot was where the box landed, sending spawls of nails opposite of the area where the box landed.

The dog.. had saved Mr. Leeroy's life. All the construction workers cheered in relief! The dog would roo-roo-roo happily. But Mr. Leeroy would slowly stand up, brushing off the dust that had collected on his wife beater, eying the metal pole that was still stuck to the dog around his neck.

The man in a red hard hat would walk over, motioning towards Mr. Leeroy as he cleared his throat, saying. 'Ya know, Mr. Leeroy. Can you, for once, let the dog go? I will block up all the fences and make sure the dog never gets in.' Mr. Leeroy, recovered from his shock, merely spat the man a response 'It is too late for that Mr. Biggins. The dog has destroyed private property. The dog needs to leave the premises immediately, so that it can never be hurt by the construction equipment like it nearly evaded today.' Groaning with pain in his back, he would reach down to the ground and grab the neck catcher, which was still around the dog's neck, and pull the handle grufly, but gently, bringing the dog closer to his hands. The dog, with soppy eyes, would comply... limping as it worked its way to the judge of it's fate.

With a hand around the collar catcher's wire, Mr. Leeroy would give the dog a serious look... seemingly eying over the prospect of what he wanted to do with it. The work area, except for the buzzes of construction work, would fall silent as the man stared deeply into the dark, brown eyes of the creature. With a long and echoing sigh, Mr. Leeroy removed the collar and began to pet the dog on the top of the head... eyes never wavering as he said 'Ive got a big house with only a wife to fill it. Would you like a place to hang your head for a while?' He would give the dog a smile, ruffling the dogs ears, as the mutt would roo-roo-roo happily in response, doing laps around the man who was going to take him home.

The workers cheered and rejoiced, happy to find Mr. Leeroy was not going to send it to the pound.

The End...

With the end of the story, he would try to rub her shoulders to keep her warm. The dwindling flame was coming to a close, and the rain outside was slowing down its pitter patter. They could be in the eye of the storm, or it could be the storm was just passing. Waiting patiently for her to rouse, if she was still in a deep sleep, he would smile to her and sigh deeply. It was rather awkward, a boy like himself, to tell such a rather mystical and soppy story. But the feelings from her brought it up. It was warm and welcoming. He didn't question it any further, as it made him feel safe and secure with her. "How did you like my story?" was the only thing that came to mind.

With the warmth squirming awake, he was a bit sad that she fell asleep. Nevertheless, it was the only way he could keep himself awake long enough for the light to slip through the glass in the room. If he were to have fallen asleep, he could have endangered himself with the loss of body heat or killed the girl with his lack of hand to eye coordination. But instead he managed to struggle through the night, and once he got out of this tiny pickle he was going to goto the showers and take a nice, long hot one before crashing on his bed... hell, he might even sleep naked for such an occasion. He would listen to her soft and weak voice, the cold not so unbearable anymore, and smile when she said.

"I apologize...I seemed to have missed most of the story when I fell asleep..."

"It is okay, I remember me telling this story on multiple occasions. It was a way that used to get my little sisters to sleep... it seems." With her fully awake and him trying to struggle to remember more about his past, the memories seemed to start to fade away... once again out of his grasp. But instead of struggling to get ahold of more information, he decided he would try to connect the dots some other day. Feeling warmth on his right hand, he would look down to see her tiny maw trying to play with his gruff fingers with an innocent voice. "I"m sorry I hurt you..." And just like that, a knot in his chest vanish. At least one person he hurt, in this entire school, was lifted with a hint of peace in her voice. He would pause, wavering as he would try to tug her tighter... this time in a hugging embrace. A small squeeze would be attempted, but he would relax his grip as he said softly, and sweetly, into her ear "Thank you..." With a moments silence, he would recover... putting back up all of those barriers he dropped for merely a second.

Trying to grip her shoulders, he would try to rub her shoulders lightly to bring them some warmth before saying "The rain has stopped. Do you want to wait here for a while until you completely warm up, or do you want to try to head out now?" With a light pause, he would wait for a response patiently. If she didn't respond soon, he would smirk as he added "Or do you need me to carry you home on my back?" He would put it in playful jest, but deep down he knew he could do it. He felt revitalized, and ready to rock, when the sun started to warm his back. It was still cloudy, but a few of the rays that slipped through help soo much on his form. It was a blessing he wanted to take advantage of.

" What's your name?"

No response to his joking gestures. No inclination to how they were there, any questions related to why he was there, or even a stamper of acknowledgment towards the thank you. Nope, all it was to it was a little snuggle towards Riley and a simple fact that she did, personally, not know his name. It wasn't the fact that he felt like he was the popular guy on campus, but because of all that had happened between the two. Thinking back to registration, the pool fright, the invasion of her room, the medical ward... and here, he had not even mentioned the word of his name to her what so ever. It was kinda dumbfounding, and in the way, an insult on his own pride. It made him pause, merely chewing this out following with a "Uhhh.....". He still had his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them to keep her warm, but this was just an absent minded action to keep the shock at bay. What a twist, indeed!

Extending his hand to her, around her body, he merely gave her the option to shake it in such a rather awkward position. "The name is Riley. Riley Simmons." Musing over the situation, he thought of a few anecdotes that involved hookers and promiscuous sex where no names were called. In the end, he just settled with this sentence to help break the silence between the two. "I've got a cute girl sitting in my lap, and she had no idea what my name was. How bizarre..." The girl part implied 'little' so that only made him question the liability of pedophilia and his own personal morals. Still, the awkward silence between the two would possibly follow... filling the air with random spikes of unease jitterness and the occasion shiver from a possible chill that swam their way. "Huh..." A questionable sound escaped his lips.

Shaking off his own sense of confusion, he merely tried to pat her on the shoulder once again... this time trying to rouse her from her slumbers. "Unless you fancy spending the night cuddling here, then I expect we should head back to the castle to get ourselves some hot showers." He wouldn't move though, unless she made an attempt to rise, waiting patiently for her to be ready to go. There was no rush, but he would like to eventually make it back so that he could shower. He hatted the icky feeling, and he guessed that he probably smelled something awful.

The awkward comfort would singe and sparkle the air as she would slowly stand, smirking inwardly as she struggled to get to her feet... feeling the poke on his nose with a mere shaking of his head. Letting her step up to stretch, he would allow her to take his jacket... it being useless to him in the frigid air. It wasn't cold to him because of the wind, it was cold because the air was cold. Nevertheless, once he started pumping those legs he knew he would build up body heat to the point of sweating when he arrived at Caislin Hallows. "The thought of carrying you is still open. " With a smile, he watched her wring out her own coat as he started to clean up their area. Placing the bottle of alcohol on the shelf nearby, he would pile the bowls in a corner so that they may be used again. He had no doubt that the area had been used once before for some kind of mating rituals or a club house for those wanting to get away from the castle. Nevertheless, he did not voice this opinions aloud.

" A warm bath sounds better..." He would hear her interject, smiling as she did so.

Sighing and cracking his neck by rolling his head from side to side, he stretched a few of those sore muscles from the cold and cramp, then jumping up and down he was ready to go. "Try to keep up. The faster we move, the warmer you will stay." Extending a hand behind her, he did not wait as he stepped into the freshly mush ground of that foggy afternoon. Barely a tread of sunlight, as normal, but it's warm glow seemed to fill him up... giving him strength to move on. He would walk briskly back towards the castle, making sure she was behind him.

[Exit thread, unless stopped]