[Gallagher]

One moment, it seemed the odd somethings were bent on destroying all in their sight, lead by the ones weilding flames. Burnt to nothing. Useless. More dirt to grow stone and turn to ugly structures, just to rot and crumble all over again.

The next, they were as minnows, darting in hunger. Or fear. Or both. Each strange and unpredictable on their own, but together with an obvious goal. What that was, he hardly knew or cared.

He remained still as they moved, back to the door that went back. Another useless thing. They, he realized, were as clueless as minnows as well. Perfectly good meat, destroyed just for being in their path. Too dense to leave him with what was left. Somethings were always troublesome. Sometimes behaving, often sticking themselves where they were unwanted.

Damn loud minnows, as if being so dense wasn't enough! He tilted his head to listen, his lip curled. Banging. Shouts. The sound of one of their... What was it...?

Around his forgotten meal he stepped, towards the group of useless somethings, hidden in their cavern. All except for one, and behind it, waiting and watching like he himself had done, more of the somethings with those...

"Shots." Yes, of course. The shots were dangerous. So many would be unpleasant to face. Maybe the somethings would speak instead, closer still, what was it they said to one another?

No, he remembered this.

"What!"