ooc :
Rhuryc grunted. Stuck, pricked, harassed, and trapped, the contestable vines had not wanted to let him go even after they had departed, leaving him to make his own way back to the wayward group of adventurers. His boots clattered against the unfriendly terrain in his haste, his lesser wounds ignored for the time. How was he supposed to find them? The darkness that enveloped him was frightening. His nerves already asunder the young man felt panic streak down his spine. Back. Forward. How could he tel which direction lie where? There was nothing. Just nothing. He spun about on his heels, his body jerked to and fro as if a lost animal, distraught, alone. Scared. This was to be his end? Scattered to the darkness with nothing but himself, lost, abandoned, and without hope. His knuckled whitened around the hilt of his sword, the old, wizened blade lowering to tap the unforgiving ground. Rhuryc had never surrendered before.
What was that? His ears twitched. Something echoed from the far reaches of the corridor, a soft, happy voice. Singing? The melody was sweet. Alluring. Like the the siren's call Rhuryc found himself drawn to the tune. His shoulders relaxed, his chin raised, that was Stitch! Beautiful, beautiful man! Forward. He took a step. Crunch. Was that vine on his shoe? Fah! He felt his body shiver. Forward. Another step. His courage mustered with every inch of new ground. He had a guide now. Gently, as if frightened to disturb his ephemeral savior, Rhuryc's own baritone joined the harmony of Stitch's music, a rumble that whispered its own life.
The incey wincey spider
Climbed up the spout
Down came the rain
And washed the spider out.
The music soothed him. Despite the childish lyrics Rhuryc found himself comforted and once more in control of himself. His pace quickened. He could hear them, closer now. The slump of his boots echoed down the eerie causeway until it was that the man found himself at the back of the group. Darkness plagued them still, yet a single shaft of light remained on their path. The man said nothing. He stepped up beside Stitch and gave his comrade a slight nod. There was no mention of his lagging, no sigh of relief or vow of thanks. Just silence. For Stitch, his aura was nothing short of grateful, hopeful, yet still tinges of fear plagued his mind. From the exterior Rhuryc was nothing short of a rock, a calm, shaped warrior, but this Labyrinth was no place for a mortal man. And he knew that.
There was no protest at the choice. Stitch was their leader after all and Rhuryc was more than amiable at allowing him to make the decisions. So it was that their trek continued. More darkness. Yet it was the chill that bothered him most. How deep were they? The surface seemed so far, the sun so distant. Then there were the voices. Ghostly, horrifying, the echoes would disturb any hardened veteran, and Rhuryc held no immunities. Every step brought him closer to Stitch and the others. Laughter turned to sorrow, then sorrow to pain. The screaming plagued his ears, it warned him. Instincts told him to run. To drop everything and turn back. Leave the others! Life was all that mattered. What would the rest of them do? Would they run with him? No. Rhuryc shifted uncomfortable, his breathing erratic, but he kept forward. One step after the next. The man focused the full brunt of his concentration on the path ahead, just walk. Left foot. Right foot.
"Fade?" Rhuryc stopped and turned, his eyes latching onto the convulsing form of their only female comrade. Instinctively, an arm came out to guard Stitch. The man did not need his protection, but it felt right, his shield held aloft before the group as if it would shield them from whatever evil held the woman. What was this madness? When she stood his relief lasted only until she spoke, cryptic words from a creature beyond his understanding. With a grunt Rhuryc shifted himself in front of the kick and lowered his body to take the hit. Fade was a slight, small thing. The strike was easy to ignore.
"What holds you girl?! Snap out of it!"
