Donna was breathing.

That was the first thing Jill checked when she dodged the Vârcolac Alfa. Having gotten a good look at what it was finally. It was bigger and nastier than any of the Vârcolac they'd encountered prior. Bloody skin of what was once a human. With only a shadow of that human shell morphed and twisted into a monstrosity.

Its body mass extended into a crouching, four-legged animal. Werewolf but far more wolf than the Lycan. Its hair coated the body much like its sister mutation, with a matted mane covering its face. Hiding much of its hideous features. Only Jill wished it hid more. The once human face was stretched and distorted. The worst part in Jill's opinion.

That massive, stretched mouth especially. The one covering nearly its entire lower face. Opening wide to take a chunk out of her flesh and swallow her up. Its claws were thankfully the thing that grazed her on its next lunge. The one that forced her away from Donna's body. Its insistence on maiming Jill left it uninterested in Donna.

Jill held her bleeding arm, too focused on the creature's moves to feel the buzzing in her pocket. Her eyes darted between Donna, the Vârcolac Alfa, and anything in the environment that may be of use. Mind and adrenaline working quick and efficiently to calculate all of her options as another lunge came nearly right after the last.

Realistically, she could leave Donna there. The woman had no further use in their plans and she was a B.O.W. to boot. The thought crossed her mind just as all other options did. Now standing beside her, both of their blood in the same snow as her arm dripped down. Watching the Vârcolac Alfa turn, ready and willing to attack again.

It was now or never.

Moreau was an honest man. An emotional man as well. It would be easier to call him a boy in many regards. A boy who longed for praise and maternal affection. The leftover boy. The shunned boy. He didn't have the emotional intelligence, not anymore, to explain why he acted as he did.

"Tell me what is troubling you, my son."

All he needed to do was tell her, and his heart would be full. "They said you're not well. That the Cadou might have…morphed you."

He watched Mother's expression shift from (attempted) warmth to pure intellect and annoyance. The hands on his face no longer caressed, but merely there by obligation. He told her. She shouldn't be this cold.

"And who was this that told you these things?" She asked, as if he were part of the problem. Even if she tried to hide it. He felt it's sting.

He thought of the blonde woman. The way she looked at him. Even if she were an enemy, she felt…he shook his head to try and rid himself of the thought. Only to hear a sound of displeasure from Mother, seeing further annoyance directed solely at him. Nausea swelled inside of him, feeling as if he'd burst any second at such a look.

"I'm disappointed in you, Moreau."

"No, I-I-!" His hand reached out for her as she walked away, further into her desks and papers. Her back to him.

"You cannot give me a simple name, what use are you?" The sting burned inside.

"It was the other lords!" He blurted out, wanting to soothe it. He thought the sting would cool as she paused and looked over her shoulder at him. A silent prompt to continue. "T-they wouldn't tell me what was going on. They just told me…you were sick. That, that we're all failures and you want to get rid of us. So, so I had to come see you…"

Silence filled the trail he left. Only the small flicker of the flames, the gurgle of his stomach. He had become nose blind to all manner of disgusting smells due to his condition, but at that moment he believed he could pick up on the scent of rot and decay. Of smoke and chemicals. Anything to distract himself from waiting.

"I see." Was the first to come, with no calm to his anxiety. Turning around to face him properly. Would she apologize? Would she calm his fears? "You've done well to tell me about such matters."

He waited, patiently. Surely, she would give more. More to his wanting heart. With each step closer he expected a touch, a word, warmth.

"You should be straightforward with such information next time." No apology. "Find out what they plan to do about my sickness." No warmth, only her back once more.

"You may leave now."

A sacrifice had to be made.

As Jill ran from the Vârcolac Alfa, she wondered if Donna could function without Angie. The poor doll was left in the snow. It's white blending into her surroundings, a perfect cover. Along with her lack of flesh and blood, it was possible the doll would survive until Jill returned to retrieve it.

Donna herself was slung over Jill's good shoulder, creating paths of blood behind them. The Vârcolac Alfa was agonizing in its stamina and determination. Jill's back was scratched up from the narrow misses. Tensing as she heard the signal of its attack.

She dived down, groaning with Donna's weight. A better alternative to the creature's violence. Only she couldn't continue like this. Feeling the weight of her wounds and a limp body, she looked ahead, praying for cover. The sight sank relief into her bones, seeing what they needed. A quaint church just ahead. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than the shacks that looked as if they'd crumble from one lunge of the beast.

She'd need to sprint and she'd need to do it now. With Donna held tightly, she pushed herself up and charged forward. Ignoring the pain on her back, her arm, the weight and the biting cold. All of it lost to the single minded pursuit. As it got close she could hear it, could feel it as it charged after them. She could feel the tells of its attack if she dodge then it would block the entrance.

She had to make it.

It was in the air, lunging as she pushed hard against the few stairs it had. The door, it was right there. Hand touching the wood of the small patio's pillar. The Vârcolac Alfa was landing right behind them. She could feel it along her skin just how close it was. The church's door slamming open just as it extended out to grab her. With its teeth or claws, she didn't know. Feeling the way her spin wanted to arch from the presence.

The ground hit hard as she fell, practically throwing them both inside to escape it. Donna was no longer on her as she pushed herself to her feet inside of the church. Donna was sprawled on the ground just nearby where she landed. Unconscious and oblivious to their near death fates. Jill looked to the entrance to see it had back away, staring.

Its growling and heavy breathing was all it did, slowly beginning to circle their hiding place. Strangely uninterested in destroying the little church. Whatever the reason for it's hesitance was her blessing and she wasn't going to look the gift horse in the mouth. Instead she got her breathing back, going to Donna's aid.

Breathing. She was still breathing. Jill confirmed it before picking her up and moving to lay her on the closest pew to the front. The injury had begun to regenerate, easing some of her worries. If only she had such power within her own body.

The materials of her clothing weren't makeshift bandage friendly but it was better than nothing. She took her coat off then her knife from its holster. Besides the faint noise of their predator outside, it was uncomfortably quiet within. Each sound louder than one would think it to be. Each cut bouncing off its holy walls.

She tried to ignore the eyes of Mother Miranda staring at her from the altar. While the golden and villager made decor was something she could appreciate, that woman ruined it. What would this village have been without her? Certainly better off. A thought that lingered as she glanced towards Donna on the bench.

As she tightened the wrappings around the worst of the wounds she felt a vibration. With the adrenaline beginning to wear down her limbs felt lethargic. Plopping down onto her butt that felt like lead. The light of her phone was brighter than the candles. Turning her face momentarily white before she answered.

"Before you ask, I'm fine." She beat him to the punch.

"Why didn't you answer?" She knew Chris well enough to hear the man's strain to remain calm. Anger always came before relief.

"Pinned by a Vârcolac. A real nasty one. Donna and I are wounded. She's knocked out but she's already regenerating."

"Where are you?"

"The little church beside the town square, to the right of Dimitrescu's bridge."

"I've sent Lobo and Tundra your way. Stay safe." His voice was growing even under his professionalism.

"I will." Once upon a time she said always will but those days ended the same day she fell from that cursed cliff. "Chris?"

"Hm?" She caught him before he hung up.

"We should move ahead of schedule."

"So you've got that feeling too, huh?" The corner of her lips snagged up. That little niggle in her mind scratched just right at his words.

"Yeah…call it a hunch."

"Hunch called. I'll speak with them now."

She nodded to no one as they both hung up. Left to the silent church. What she wanted to do was stand up and chance peeking out. What she ended up doing was sitting right where she was. The adrenaline was subsiding and the pain was replacing it. The little movements were enough to convince her not to make big ones.

So all she could do was wait.

Roaming.

That's what Moreau did. After leaving Mother's lab he had nowhere to settle. His home at the Reservoir would have normally been his choice, but he wasn't able to relax there at all. Everywhere just…wasn't right. Nothing was right. What could he do but walk around lost in thought and anxiety? Feelings he couldn't cure by himself.

The Lycan and Vârcolac left him alone. If he'd been aware of how bizarre they were acting for the others, he might have assumed it was out of pity. He didn't know such things, so instead he paid their disinterest no mind. Wandering about with no destination in mind. The cold paid him no mind.

The white reflecting the sun made him squint. The snowy environment was brighter than his hideaway and depths. So used to his damp darkness, his eyes didn't like it at all. He had half a mind to just shut them completely and let himself bump into things. Occasionally keeping them closed until he noticed a bizarre red in the white.

He blinked, wobbling over to it.

Blood.

He could recognize blood anywhere. Only this trail was fresh. Not like the brown, old ones throughout the rest of the village. It was strange how he immediately thought of the blonde woman. It could be the rest of her team but he didn't care about them. He shouldn't even care about her but she was warm…he wanted warm.

He hoped that wasn't the warmth spilled out into the snow. Draining it into the cold just like everything else was. Tainted by this village.

He had to know. Had to find out if it was her or not. If nothing else, it was the only thing distracting him from his thoughts. Giving him something concrete to latch onto as he followed it.

"Yes?" Lady Dimitrescu answered the loud ring of her phone. Leaving Ethan to continue rocking Rose back to her slumber.

The child was completely content after food, pooping, and getting cleaned up. All the needs a baby could ever want. Now all that was left was a good nap in the warmth of her father's arms. A nice lull with the rocking and cooing he did.

"Based on a…hunch?" He listened to her side of the conversation and her scrutinizing tone. The pause of what was likely an explanation before he heard a sigh.

"Alright, we'll come right over." Her words were followed by the clank of the phone as she hung up.

If Ethan were bold enough, he'd call her expression worried. "What's wrong?"

"Mr. Redfield needs us." Her worry wasn't masked, not even in the slightest. It was contagious to see, rubbing him the wrong way as he stood with her. "Come."

She pushed open the doors to her room and he followed right behind. Her mood was throwing him off but he'd never been one to take such a thing into consideration. "Why? What's wrong?"

"We'll find out when we get there."

"You're acting weird. There's a reason."

"Ethan…be quiet."

He narrowed his eyes. The dismissal, the vagueness, the curt attitude. It all grated on him just the wrong way. "You're scared, why?"

"Somehow you are the most perceptive and oblivious man I've ever met." Lady Dimitrescu kept walking as she insulted him in her grandiose way. A slip into her usual lofty demeanour.

"We're in this together. You should tell me what's going on."

"Not yet."

"Why not?"

She stopped in the middle of the courtyard, snapping to face him with her sneer and glare. "You just don't know when to quit, do you?"

"Nope." He remained completely unfazed. Staring up with nothing but a challenge in his eyes.

She held the stare in return…before groaning and continuing to walk. "The great Lady Dimitrescu shouldn't be scared."

"But you are."

"But I am."

He felt the smallest of victories when she finally admitted it. "What did they say? On the phone? Something about a hunch?"

"He believes we're going to be confronting Mother soon…I imagine he doesn't wish to give such sensitive information over the phone. We're going to Heisenberg for a proper debriefing." She explained and the gears began to turn in his mind.

"You're afraid of confronting her."

"Perhaps…" He got the feeling there was more on her mind. Not that he could ask just yet. The next doors she opened were the front foyers and the next thing to enter were the bug forms of all her daughters.

They quickly materialized, swarming around Dimitrescu. Curious looks around all of them that shifted to concern at seeing their mother's worry.

"Where are you going?"

"Is something wrong?"

"Did Ethan forget something?"

"There's no meeting today right?"

Ethan watched them, wondering if they had some sixth sense about each other. They were mutated, he wouldn't put it past them. Especially not after what the mold could do back in Louisiana. Watching as Dimitrescu wrapped them all in a big group hug to which they returned.

"It's not time yet!" Daniela argued.

"It'll be alright, don't you trust your mother?" They could all see there was still some worry to her eyes but no one called her out on it.

Instead there was a collective "Yes, mother."

"Good. Now hold down this castle until I return, understand?"

"Yes, mother." Only the tones and feelings of each girl varied this time. Earning them each a smile and a kiss on the head. Ethan, the bystander he was, thought about how it was the first time he'd seen such affection between the women.

"Come, let us go." Then she was back to normal, walking ahead of him.

Behind her, the girls watched him, except for Cassandra, who had a blade in her hand. The woman was staring at him as she used the knife to make a threatening gesture along her neck. Coupled with the mouthed warning to take care of their mother.

"I will." He mouthed in return before quickly following after her.