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Cee actually shuddered this time at Nest's touch. Reality had seeped into her hope that this was a dream. The true ache of what was happening to her had set in and she shivered because it was so damn cold all of a sudden. She was a ******** granny who needed to sit by a fire somewhere.

She watched as Carl sliced the moths, watched them fall and swarm sometimes like leaves and sometimes like ashes and sometimes just plain terrifying and mesmerizing. Maybe she was lucky and it was just bad acid.... but then they were getting Beth and Carl was clearly not winning.

Suddenly all that was Cee kicked in: who the <********> were these people and why would she care? She was <******** dying and it pissed her off so bad.

"Takem! Take these ********! Put me back!" Oh god don't look at your hands.

Mention of dying had the taller of the two Mists stiffening, but that was the only outward reaction he made to the horsemen woman. He felt Paige pressing closer to him, tugging at his scarf, and though he didn't take his eyes off the petite form in front of them, he did turn slightly to dip his head towards her softened voice. "Of course you aren't," came a murmured reply, level and reassuring. He wasn't sure if he believed it, but he wanted to.

{Why do you not attack? You can win!}

Quite possibly, but she's not the danger here.

Fingertips rested on the small of Paige's back, just as itching to summon. Lagertha was a frenzied presence in his head, but he resisted, for now. His lips twitched, the muscles around his eyes tightening. "By whom?"

----

It didn't matter what it was swarming around them, it was a threat. Carl did he best, he tried to strike down as many of the winged insects as he could, and even managed to get off a charge--like a blast of air pressure, driving back the tiny bodies that sought to choke then, but it was a temporary relief. They rushed in again, thicker this time. He couldn't see, couldn't breath, barely registered what he was hearing, but what he did hear sent the blood in his veins icy. What?!

Panicked, Carl groped blindly for Beth, and when he found her arm he'd shove her back towards the entry way. They had to get out of here. They had to get the ******** away from Cee and the thing that loomed over her.

This had been a bad idea. He knew it, he'd repeated himself over and over, but he'd ignored his better judgement because he'd felt awful for Paige, and the rest of them. Cee meant something to them, he could empathize, he'd lost comrades as well. He didn't want them to have to lose there's, and now? Now she was turning on them. Sacrificing them.

Carl choked as he pushed at Beth, but his head was beginning to swim, steps faltering. What little he could see was starting to go black around the edges and he couldn't even hear the sound of wings beating beside his ears.

They were going to die here. This was all his fault. He should have put his foot down and made them stay at the base. Maybe they'd resent him, but at least they'd all be alive...

Most of what Nest said was nonsense to her because Cee wasn't someone who viewed things in grand schemes or convoluted abstracts. She was already trying to work out how many years each body gave her. Was it their age, was it some magical tally with magical rules? It was easier to parse this out than to sit and stare and listen to Carl and Beth's wheezing.

The idea struck her that she could now, with a non failing body, summon her weapon and strike. But she'd seen how effective that had been for Carl. Why piss off the thing that held your youth in the balance?

Nest was there then, whispering in her ear. Whispering for more lives. She waited to hear the angel on her other shoulder, the one that was supposed to tell her not to do it.

But there was only the one voice.

"I ain't greedy.." Her voice wavered uneasily, but her terrified self-preservation instincts seemed to erupt in proper Cee fashion. She actually sassed a bit, still slightly trembling, "I could deal with a good... 25-27. It's all downhill from'ere."

What was that.. one more maybe? If Carl and Beth were here, where was that weirdo Jaime? Or Bob, that ********. She apparently mentally even glossed over the names of her actual friends.

Cee had never ever claimed not to be out for number one.

"...I say it's a really...bad idea to go in there." But, of course, even as Ever said it, he was leaning in to look down the dark tunnel, head cocked to the side and hands on his knees. Worrying at his lip, he was a creature of two minds. The, yes, nerd, who was more than a bit interested in what might be down there, and then the guy who still had a hook-shaped scar from his ribs across his abdomen --

His answer was to look up at Bob and smile, all at once, humorless. "I say you go first."

Ever followed: well in Bob's wake, admittedly, so that anything would make a meal of him and leave time for escape, perhaps, or maybe he was just so damned tall that it was awkward to shuffle through the narrow little tunnel. Arms and knees and shoulders bumping the edges.

Cee felt a surprising pit in her stomach suddenly. "No no.. not.." The moth crawled in her mouth, despite her efforts to blow them away, her body shuddering with gags because bugs. And her body felt better but she suddenly felt a weight of mind.

"No not that many!" Cee hissed and continued to swipe at her face until she could hear and see just a little. She should have known better. Known better than to make a deal, known better than to try and be an a*****e with an ancient creature. "Just one.. or.. ********. I just want to be my own ******** age again you b***h!"

Because she knew who was in those tunnels and damned if she didn't trust herself. She didn't want to die... she didn't want to be an old woman.. but she didn't want to go back and have to explain. Or make some ******** up choice in front of people who actually thought something of her.

Behind Bob, Ever froze -- very still, holding his breath, unsure if that sound meant the tunnel was about to collapse on them but not quite ready to retreat back. He didn't make it much better, but at least he didn't make it worse....

Zeke wasn't sure if sharing that bit of information was actually the best course, but since he had no better ideas it didn't really matter. Besides, maybe the horsewoman would continue to be accommodating. She had thus far not proven none violent, a surprising occurrence all on it's own considering what Zeke had heard of their race.

He met Paige's eyes as she looked up at him, pleading with him, and he gave a very tiny shake of his head. They didn't have a damn clue where Cee was in here, and if there were many many, blundering around blindly seemed like an awful idea. If the horsewoman proved completely unhelpful they could take her out, but until then he was willing to play it by ear. It seemed the safest course, at least for now.

"She's about your size, with dark hair and dark skin." The fingers on Oaige's back slid lower until he could hook his pinky into the central loop of her jeans.

----

And end would have been mercy at this point. Skin like paper, bones like twigs, frail bodies and failing organs struggling to keep an ancient body going. He didn't fight oblivion when it was offered to him ,he embraced it, going willingly into that sweet darkness. It meant relief, it meant rest. It meant an escape from pain and worry.

His breath rattled out one last time, and that was the end.