Everyone. Kankri let out a breath, averting his eyes from witnessing Latula plant a kiss on Mituna. His stomach burned at the mere thought of it. He'd never been in a relationship before, and he had no intentions on ever getting into one (he'd remember to write an article when he got back home on how distracting romance could be to ones progress). Yet still, something inside of him felt lonely, almost.

He shook his head. That was the end of that thought. No one was falling asleep, and he knew he wouldn't be able to, the adrenaline from the day's events rendered any idea of rest impossible. They were stuck in some house in the middle of nowhere while their sibling's whereabouts were unknown. Kankri felt in his pockets for the cigarettes he'd brought with him, he was slowly running low, and he would likely either have to start invading Cronus' property to take some of his or steal some from a nearby store. He wasn't proud, but desperate times called for desperate measures. As long as he didn't tell anyone of this, it would be okay, his reputation would remain in tact.

Kankri slid up the wall. It was too dark in the hall to see where he was going, so he would have to feel around. Placing one foot in front of the other, he wobbled his way away from Porrim and to the door.

"Kanny." Porrim's voice boomed from the room like an alarm clock.

"No Porrim it's not your business." Kankri sneared, his words coming out harsher than he had intended.

"I was just going to say it's cold out there." She said through a yawn.

"I know that." He responded before turning around. He reminded himself not to touch the railing, and clamored down the steps and to the front door. He ignored the feeling of being watched and pushed aside the fact he was all alone on the ground floor. He cracked open the door and stepped out into the cold, the wind greeting him with a nasty scream. Hands, instantly frozen, they thumbled for his lighter. He flicked it, the numbness of his thumb proving no use. He tried again, and again, and when he finally had it, he lifted the stick to his mouth, inhaling the smoke, letting it out. The wind continued to blow, shaking the trees, however there was no longer any rain. Instead, traces of snow puttered through the air, swirling like the stars on a Merry-Go-Round.

Then, far in front of him, something emerged from the gray fog that had begun to blanket the air. His stomach leaped as he backed up before remembering Damara had fled the scene just earlier. She grew closer, and he searched for something to say. He wasn't entirely sure whether or not she understood English, but the least he could do was try.

He could hardly see the expression on her face when she stood in front of him. She reached forward, and his head jerked back, almost enough to give him whiplash. Her fingers wrapped around his cigarette and she placed it in her mouth.

He had completely forgotten to hide it from her, but it wasn't like she could tell anyone anyway. Irritated at the invasive gesture, he let out a huff. She had just gotten bullied by Meenah, so he was sure to keep himself in tact during such a painful moment in her life. There was no need to trigger any hurt.

Even though it was nearly pitch black, he could see the reflection of the moon in her nearly-dried tears that had created a path down her cheeks. There was a different kind of vibe to her now though, something that just felt a little off. Like something inside of her had broken. Or snapped.
Kankri's mind wondered back to the instant Latula and Mituna first kissed. It felt as though something had frosted over his heart, and now it was permanently frozen. He didn't want to share it with anyone, because he felt as though only one person could warm him. His past caused him to grow colder, as did unrequited love, and as long as he focused on the issues at hand, he could distract himself, make himself important in such a way he had never been before. He was in control of the situation, something rarely offered to him. His family's poverty didn't matter during those times, and neither did the abuse that occurred so long ago.

Damara handed him back his cigarette to which he responded with a murmur of "no thanks."

He looked past her at the bus they had used. The vehicle was now well known to be the cops, so there was now no way they could travel. They were in a complete mess.

"Let's go inside Damara." Kankri said as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "Maybe we can locate a bedroom or something for you to stay in for the night."

She looked at him dumbfounded, likely not understanding a word he had just said. He took that as an answer to his question on whether or not she actually knew English. Spinning on his heel, he opened the door and directed her inside. It was too dark to see, but he felt along the walls, using his memory of when they first entered the house as a means of guidance. He gestured her to follow him, and she did. The both of them navigated through what appeared to be a hall, when his good hand, that had been running against the wall, came to a dent. He walked towards it, feeling that it was an opening. This room had a window, and it lightly lit the space in a soft glow. They were in a bathroom, a cast iron bathtub shoved against the wall similar to the one he had at his home. He looked the other way and saw a room parallel. He pushed forward, thankful Damara was near him because his stomach was doing flips at the apprehension of seeing something frightening. He opened the door, and this door led not to a bedroom (of course) but what appeared to be a kitchen. He and Damara stumbled inside, when an idea sprung into his head. On what he presumed to be the table was a candle. He moved towards it with rapid speed and pulled out his lighter. He flicked it until a flame licked the top and performed little dances. He lifted the candle (which took a good amount of effort as it had apparently melted to the table) and gifted it the gift of life. Damara's face lit up at the sight of light. Holding the candle to the wall, Kankri saw that there were photos. They weren't in color, but instead in black and white. There was a photo of a man in trousers with a shovel in his hands, and one of a woman in the kitchen with a gravy boat. The last one was what he assumed to be a family portrait. Two children- a boy and a girl, and the parents. The father was a sour looking man with a long face, and the woman looked as though she wanted to be anywhere but there. The kids weren't smiling either, but instead looking at the camera with boredom in their eyes.

He moved on from the photos, and continued to walk to the door just at the end of the kitchen. The candle only gave them a small portion of light, and he had to admit, it felt creepier than being engulfed in total darkness. Damara didn't like it either, he could see it in the way she frowned. That frown wasn't just sadness, but worry.

He twisted the knob and pulled, the hinges protesting his action. Holding the candle high, he saw that there was a hallway branching off to two different rooms. He would have to stay in the room with Damara, there was no way in hell he was walking back upstairs again. The two of them approached closer yet, Kankri's legs no longer wishing to delivery him to his destination.

When they stood in front of the sight, it wasn't anywhere near as bad as he stewed it to be. There was one bed and it was of a good size. A moth eaten strip of fabric resided on top of it and a pillow, flat from decay, was plopped on top. There was a little dresser under a window, and a fire place.

"Perhaps we could make a fire." He said, looking around for scraps of wood. Damara had made her way over to the bed and sat on top of it. Surprising as it was, it didn't crumple to pieces. She just bounced, her hair falling loosely from her bun. She watched him as though he had every answer in the world. He raised his chin, distaste wriggling its way through his lips.

"I wouldn't lay on that if I were you, do you know how many creatures could have made their way to that thing?" Kankri asked. He then realized (once more) she had no idea what he was saying. He shook his head and let out a small sigh.

His stomach had the constant sickness in it, like a poisonous cherry pit embedded within his gut. He couldn't rub off the feeling that something was terribly wrong, and no matter how much he tried to distract himself, nothing could overcome the fear that his brother was in danger. The adrenaline from earlier had much worn off by this time, and he found himself hardly able to comprehend the fact he had run away with fourteen other teenagers to an abandoned house and had run from the cops. That his father had no idea where he was, and that not only had he lost his youngest son, but the oldest one too.

Kankri shifted his head to the side, rubbing his neck. It was so cold, and smelt heavily of mildew and old fabric. Dust had settled like a protective barrier in every area it could. Because it was cold, insects weren't too big of an issue, but there were plenty of carcasses splattered on the windowsills, especially in the kitchen. The moths had taken to feasting on the curtains and rugs, but did not have the pleasure of a light bulb. He only wished the electricity worked in the house, that way he could sneak back to the upstairs bedroom without being scared for his life.

From the corner of his eyes, movement from Damara's position took his focus. She had stood up, and walked to the drawers. She inspected it first, her fingers gliding across the chipped and cracked wood. Then, she wrapped her hand around the handle and pulled. It opened with a slight thwack and crunch. The wood didn't appear to be in the best shape at the time.
Damara pulled out something white and held it in front of her. Kankri moved the candle closer, seeing it wasn't white, but yellow. It was a simple blouse, but in decent condition for however long it had been there. She put it back and continued to dig around, opening and closing the various compartments, before coming to the last one. It opened, then shut, and back on the bed she was with a quilt she had found inside. She laid her head down and closed her eyes. Kankri didn't quite know what to do, or where to go at this point, so he crossed the room and placed the candle on the dresser and sat down just below the window, the moonlight dripping in as though someone had taken it and spilled it over a stretch of darkness. His head was leaned on the side of the dresser, hair falling over his eyes and blocking his vision. Damara, through her tears and sniffles, blocked out any of the fearful noises that occurred outside the room, but did not block out the fears that remained outside the house. He watched as her body began to shake, the quilt being pulled closer to her body, her head digging into her arms. He listened as she wept, her pain seeping out of her like a wrung sponge. He smelt the candle burning, the flame causing her shadow to dance on the wall. He felt within him, a sense to reach out to her, but instead kept to himself, in his corner, with his thoughts. Alone.