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"With everyone inside?" Alphonse repeats, instantly mortified by what Lillith had said. No wonder she seemed so peculiar; she was likely still in shock! "Perhaps you should not go back so soon. You do not know who did this or why or if they might return to finish the job. It is terribly dangerous, mademoiselle."

[sorry I haven't posted in a while, but I read up]
"I'm sure they're fine, Miss Lillith, I do know what you are going through. My father's home was set on fire the night after my sister and I left for the safehouse." Images of the ashes drifted through my mind with the picture of the flames which fed on the run down house. "He was a weapon's master. They stole from him and left him to die." A solemn tear trickled down my cheek, I hoped it remained unnoticed. That's when I saw Asher on the staircase.

I had never seen Dawn cry. Even if it wasn't really a cry so much as a whimper, it still stuck with me. I pretended not to hear it and proceeded to the table. "Trouble sleeping?" I looked around at the girl and man who sat by her. "Nice to meet you, I'm Asher." I smiled. "Mind if I spare myself a cup of hot chocolate?" I made my way to the stove, as if nothing was wrong. The truth was that I was nervous. Our troops were advancing here, I had recieved a letter from Commander Slyfang that this side wouldn't have an idea what was coming. Any minute one of my soldiers could knock down the door and kill the people around me.

[[just making sure, but you all know he is an enemy, right?! he is from the other side and is under cover in the safehouse, which no other character knows at the moment]]

Alphonse shook his head; he could not really understand Lillith wishing to put herself at risk in the hopes that she might find other survivors. But then... then Dawn's words gave him a thought that thawed his cold nature. If Mallory were in that fire, he would insist on going to the remains immediately. He would have to know, and he would be devastated were his son lost to him. Lillith must need that same closure. "I see. You really must go, then. If you should like, I will accompany you." Alphonse was not certain really why he had offered, but he would do as he said. Asher's entry prompted a polite nod from Alphonse, but his attention truly remained focused on Lillith. Who would have thought? A lovely woman stood inches from him and he could only feel sympathy and compassion. Truly, he was getting old.

((Yup; you've made it pretty clear. But he hasn't done anything to give himself away and the only proficient mind reader is more interested in Mallory's dirty, dirty thoughts of Lance. xd Are Mallory's dirty, dirty dreams even safe? Dun dun dun... ))

Alphonse thought nothing of it when there was pounding on the door, but broken glass? A window, perhaps? When Asher immediately disappeared, the twin emotions of suspicion and fear were born into his heart. Alphonse stepped away from the females. "Yes, it is past time we left this place from the sound of it. Please go." Alphonse ran from the kitchen, but not to escape. He charged up the stairs toward the room he shared with Mallory.

Mallory woke to the sound of shattering glass, but he was still too confused and sleep muddled to make anything of it. He sat up, rubbed his eyes and listened for any other sound. The next thing he heard was the door being slammed open by his father, who immediately looked relieved. "Papa? Ce qui se passe?"

"Come, come, hurry. We have to go now." Alphonse took a step into the room, in case he needed to drag the boy out. He had no idea how many they would need to evade, nor really where in the house they were. But he need not have worried that Mallory would dawdle.

Mallory jumped out of bed and quickly joined his father, with no regard to the fact that they both wore only pajamas and no shoes. His father had sounded frantic, perhaps even afraid. An explanation would just have to wait. They left the room without a word, though oddly their thoughts were identical.

What of the others?

Alphonse and Mallory were caught up in the sweep and now were being herded through the underground tunnel. Neither spoke a word. Mallory was still confused and a bit anxious, but certainly more awake than he had been only moments ago. Alphonse kept a hand on his shoulder, perhaps to help calm him. Not that it was really working. Their evacuation had gone so smoothly, so perfectly... so according to plan. It certainly did not feel like they were fleeing wildly from a sudden, new threat. How long had it been known that the safe house was no longer safe? A sudden thought struck Mallory and his eyes cut to Lance's back. For a group that had just arrived, these six men seemed well versed in an escape plan Mallory had been completely unaware of. Why had they arrived with such perfect timing?

Alphonse did not lose himself to thought as Mallory did. His mind was quiet and still, satisfied that Mallory was at his side and not in immediate danger. He did not care how, or why, so long as those things remained true. He glanced down at the boy, then followed his gaze to Lance. Was he really so distracted by hormones at a time like this? Alphonse smiled faintly at his mistaken assumption. It was not at all a bad thing if it kept Mallory's mind off of fleeing from enemies in the dead of night still in his pajamas.

I followed everyone into the tunnel. Where was Asher? I was in back of everyone so I snuck into the the front of the house, to find Asher. He was standing in the corner by the door, speaking to a man in uniform. "We decided to advance early..." the man said, until he saw me. Everyone else was in the tunnel. "Miss," his voice was like that of a hoarse snake, "I think you had better come with us." I tried to run, but before I could my feet were lifted from the floor and I was struggling in the arms of an enemy soldier.
[well that's not good!]

It was dark in the tunnel and eerily quiet. If Mallory had not had his eyes on Lance, he would not have even noticed when the man turned, passed them and became one of the many shadows behind them. Well, that certainly seemed to answer his question. Lance had turned back to buy them time, most likely; he must have been prepared for this flight. His father gave his shoulder a well-timed reassuring squeeze; Mallory was quite depressed that someone he'd known only long enough to find he liked the man was staying back while he ran away. Mallory lay a hand atop his father's, offering up what small comfort he could in exchange. Had any of the others also fell behind? Was everyone from the safe house even here? Mallory found that the darkness kept him from being certain of his count, but he felt almost sure the group was too small. The boy frowned and tried to think of who he did not see. Merde, but I do think too much. Even if I could make a proper count in this cursed dark tunnel, what do I plan to do with that information? Run back and join the missing? We've made so many turns I would instantly be lost if I tried!