Ren circled Aoba frenziedly, nudging his face with his nose and licking at his cheeks and eyelids – but it was to no avail.

Aoba looked dead. Snow was falling in his hair and melting on his lifeless skin. His face was expressionless, his body immune to Ren's touch. Somehow managing to think logically for a few seconds, Ren checked Aoba's heart-rate with his internal monitor. It was dangerously low; the only advantage being that the bleeding had slowed.

He moved to get a closer look at Aoba's leg. The claws were embedded deep, just lower than mid-calf level. He couldn't see the skin very well because of Aoba's jeans, but it was certain that he would need stitches. For the third time since Aoba had collapsed, Ren rang Mink's coil. He knew that Mink didn't take it to work with him, but if he saw all of the missed calls and voice mails when he arrived home, he was bound to hurry to them…

Again, there was no answer. Just as Ren was considering what he could possibly do to improve the situation, he heard a voice.

"Ahh, it hurts. It's agony." Ren turned to the now sitting figure. His eyes gleamed malevolently as he trailed a hand down his leg and pressed on the flesh surrounding the trap with his fingertips. His voice was breathy and dripping with ecstasy.

"If I'd been the one in control, he wouldn't have walked into this thing. It's actually quite big isn't it? I thought the only animals they had round here were foxes and minks." He paused, flicking the metal lazily with a fingernail. "This is what he gets for never letting me take the reins…I'd like to see our Mink stuck here, begging for help."

"Sly!" Ren growled, narrowing his eyes savagely. "Give Aoba back!"

"Hmm, I'm sorry, but Aoba's currently indisposed. He's not like me, you see. He can't deal with pain or confusion." Sly smirked cruelly. "He hasn't got any idea what's going on right now, the hopeless idiot, so I'm taking over for a bit…anyway, how are you, poor Renny? Are you all upset with him being mean to you?" Sly reached over and ruffled Ren's fur with mock concern.

"Don't make me bite you."

Sly face flashed with amusement. "Oya, oya. Now we know that wouldn't achieve anything. I like blood. Or have I been locked away for so long that you don't remember?" To prove his point, he skimmed his hands across his leg and brought a bloodied finger to his lips, licking it slowly.

Ren held his breath for a few seconds. He knew what Sly was like – he'd be bored with taunting him in a few minutes. Gritting his teeth slightly, Ren looked Sly directly in the eyes.

"Please. Just don't make it any worse for him."

It wasn't often that Mink expressed his feelings verbally, let alone having a conversation with a dead person - but that's what he found himself doing. It was nearing 11:15pm by the time he reached the makeshift graveyard. The streetlights had been switched off, but the drifting snow gave off a light of its own, covering the scorched earth with downy flake.

It was unusual for him to do this. Mink hadn't visited the graves since arriving in America; he hadn't felt the need to. He offered prayers to the deceased daily, and he didn't need something artificial like the piles of stones and twigs marking the graves to make him feel close to them. Yet now, he found himself here.

It was the man's words. They had had an impact on him after all, propelling him to visit the very site where he had watched his friends, family and neighbours be slaughtered.

The raging fires and Toue's amused grin loomed in his mind, and he balled his fists at the thought. He wondered what his parents would think of his life now, if they would be proud of him… The thought made him choke a little, but he swallowed it back. That wretched old man putting impossible possibilities in his head! There was no use thinking about what things might have been like. They weren't, and never would be.

"Mink, are you okay?"

It was rare for Tori to ask questions, and ever more remarkable for him to show concern. Mink inclined his head slightly, before turning to Tori.

"What time is it?"

"11:30pm."

"Hmph. We should be going."

Mink swiftly turned his back on the wasteland before him and began marching homewards. It wasn't much longer before he arrived home. He stopped at the door and took a few slow, deep breaths, trying to ensure that he was fully composed before seeing Aoba, if he was still awake that was.

He opened the door as quietly as possible in case Aoba was asleep, although he was such as heavy sleeper a ferocious bear could have entered the house and Aoba wouldn't have noticed. There was no "welcome home" to greet him, so Mink assumed that he must be right. Strolling over to the sofa, he noticed that the fireplace had gone out, so Aoba must have gone to bed a while ago. There was nobody in the living room, so he went to check the bedrooms.

There was nobody in the spare bedroom either, and Mink almost chuckled to himself that Aoba must be in his bed, cheeky shit, but when he opened the door and flicked on the light switch, he found that the room was vacant. In fact, he couldn't even feel the presence of anybody else in the house.

"Aoba?" He called out, wandering over to the bathroom. The door was open, and it was empty. "Aoba?!" More loudly this time, but still no answer. From the corner of his eye, he spotted his coil on the living room table. Picking it up, he found three missed calls, all off Aoba. His stomach was attacked with an unpleasant flipping sensation as he picked it up and listened to one of the answerphone messages.

"Mink, it's Ren. Aoba is seriously hurt. We went into the forest to find you, but we got lost. Aoba is unconscious. He's showing signs of hypothermia, and he has his leg stuck in an animal trap of some sort. We need you to come and help us."

In that moment, Mink's mind went blank, and with the same quick transition, he snapped into action. Hypothermia…he quickly gathered a towel and a blanket, and after going through a few cupboards he managed to locate a first aid box with some bandages and tape. He ran as quickly as he could towards the forest, ordering Tori to locate them and fly back to him. It wasn't long before Tori flew back, and flying besides him, began to direct him.

"Sly's come out."

Mink could taste blood at the back of his throat from taking in such cold air as he ran, but he managed to respond with an animalistic growl.

"The fucker had better not have done anything to Aoba."

Blood pounded in his ears and snow crunched underfoot as he continued running, his feet hammering into the ground as if he were being chased by rabid hounds. It was a few minutes before they entered the clearing, and when they did, Mink was repulsed by the sight that greeted him. Aoba, or rather, Sly, was sat before him, topless and covered in dirt and blood.

"Sly! What have you done to him?"