Violent crashes accentuating the aquatic cacophony to his distant right, testament to the sudden collapses common to caves of this sort, had given Harvy no pause. The partial chimney chosen he had chosen to aid his downward climb was well-weathered, any earthly instabilities long since beaten away from the immortal rock, and in truth he had had little room left to fall.

It had been the strange sounds that followed, muffled yet clearly out of place in an “empty” gully, which had precipitated his sudden change in behavior. Patiently, the body had made efforts to quiet his decent, had made careful moves back towards the rushing water, had begun to recognize voices punctuating the din, and was now attempting to see without being seen.

Harvy had no trouble identifying a hostile situation; the confused and angry tones of the yet indiscernible words would have been enough put him on his, if the steady stream of clipped, violent thoughts hadn’t already set his heart to racing. He was apprehensively concluding on a quiet escape when, suddenly, reflex tugged a word out of the chaos and through it in his face; ‘Maruchi’.

“Damn!”

Abandoning caution, abandoning inhibition, abandoning plans and tricks and facades, Harv began to run. The mind suddenly snapped in focus, demanding maniacally for an explanation. The body knew that everything was shot to Hell, either completely unsalvageable or else not worth the effort, but he was a creature of emotion and, at the moment, none of that mattered.

Two humanoid figures resolved in the semi-gloom. The body identified the closer of the two, well-muscled and garishly red-clad, as Heishuro. The other, lithe and hard, was an outsider and, apparently, a bastard. They stood apart for the moment, trading glares and throwing taunts, quite obviously preparing to rip each other to shreds. The Dreamers damn them both!

Though still unnoticed, Harvy was near enough now to make of the face of each man; cause enough for another curse. There was a darkness in the mystery man, deep set within his eyes and echoed throughout his entire being, a black assurance that this fellow would not hesitate to kill: no matter the circumstance and with little reason. Maruchi’s features, proclamations of a bright innocence, assured something quite the opposite. Damn and damn again.

“Stop right there!”

Well, he had had to do something… ah Damn…

OOC: Everything's settled with character approval now; thanks Ranarath.