Kindred Spirits

September 16th was the full moon and, unfortunately for the Marauders, a Friday.

Fridays at the start of each term were sacred to the four boys. They were the best days to pull pranks and throw parties on, and they were early enough in the term that they weren't occupied by various detentions. Hence, as a general rule, the Marauders liked to capitalise on those early Fridays. But when one of their soldiers was wounded (or, more accurately, preparing to turn into a werewolf - as most normal teenage boys do), they could do nothing but sit at his bed-side and complain.

"I think the lunar cycle has it out for us," Sirius declared decidedly that afternoon, scowling deeply.

Remus looked at him with all the disdain he could muster given his exhaustion. "I'm sorry that I don't get to pick which day I turn into a bloodthirsty monster."

"I'm not blaming you, Moony," Sirius hurried to clarify. "But, y'know, it would've been nice to have the night free."

"I don't see why you're complaining," Remus fixed his friend with a glare. "You're going to be free as rain. I'm the one who has to howl at the moon all night, hauled up in the shack."

This seemed to nudge Sirius out of his self-piteous state and knock some sense into him. His scowl turned into an empathetic half-smile and in a more sophisticated voice, he said, "we can only imagine how much this sucks, but you shouldn't worry, mate. Soon, we'll be proper Animagi and we'll be able to join you on full moons."

Remus sighed. "C'mon, Sirius, we both know that's not going to happen anytime soon. You've been on this thing since second year, and we've made almost no progress."

"Hey! That's not true!" Sirius protested, propping himself up on his elbows hurriedly. "We messed up a few times - like when Peter swallowed his leaf thrice in third year, and when James forgot to say the spell for a fortnight because of Quidditch anxiety-"

James, roused by this accusation, lifted his head up from his pillow and fixed Sirius with an accusatory stare. "And when you lost your leaf in Amelia Bones' mouth while snogging her last year on Valentine's Day."

"Yeah, yeah, that too," Sirius brushed this off with a dismissive flick of his wrist and continued on unperturbed, "but we've been going steady for a while now. We completed the leaf step successfully, we've prepared the potion perfectly and kept it safe, and we've been saying the incantation every day and night like clockwork. All we need now is a small lightning storm and we'll be set!"

"And how soon do you see that happening?" Remus asked, pointing at the clear sky outside in annoyance.

"Oh, please, Moony, this is Scotland. The weather will get shitty in no time, and when it does, lightning will come too. I'm sure of it," Sirius reassured his friend, puffing out his chest proudly.

"I haven't seen you this optimistic in a long time, Sirius," James observed, raising his eyebrows inquisitively. "What's the occasion?"

"Well, with you skulking around in a constant depressive episode, someone has to be cheery around here," Sirius retorted.

"Yeah, mate, ever since the train, you've been moping more than Sirius," said Peter, waving his wand around hysterically in a final attempt to get the summoning spell right. "Accio pillow!"

The pillow that Peter was so desperately trying to summon didn't move an inch, but Sirius did. He reached out from his bed, grabbed the unmoving pillow and gave Peter a good smack with it. "Thanks a lot, Pete. Y'know, I may not be a walking ray of sunshine, but at least I can summon a bloody pillow!"

"Oi!" Peter bellowed, rubbing soothing circles on the spot that Sirius had attacked. He narrowed his eyes and muttered through gritted teeth, "only you could make something so soft hurt so bad."

"You know what? On second thought, I think I'd much rather be howling at the moon than stay within your miserable company any longer," Remus lamented, with some hidden degree of amusement.

"Mhm," James moaned numbly, digging his face in his pillow again.

"That's rude, Remus," Sirius reprimanded his friend with a dramatic scoff.

"It's just as well, if you're going to be going around assaulting people with pillows!" Peter exclaimed, staring at Sirius heatedly.

"You see? This is exactly what I mean," said Remus, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. "I'm surrounded by an over-dramatic, self-piteous diva, an immature, bickering child that complains about pillows, and an optimist turned nihilist all because his sister is giving him the cold shoulder! You're all ridiculous. Honestly. And to think that on full moons, I'm supposed to be the moody one."

"But you are moody," Peter commented idly. "You've been just as much a moping git as James today. And at least he has an excuse - Ryan's his twin sister, for Merlin's sake. You've just got your wand all up in a twist."

Seeing Remus about to retaliate quite rudely, Sirius opted to change the topic of conversation. "What is Ryan doing anyway?"

"How should I know? It's not like she's talking to me," James grumbled.

Calming himself down, Remus said, "she has her second detention with Lestrange today."

"How do you know that?" James scowled at his friend.

"I don't have the memory of a goldfish. I remember McGonagall giving her a month of detentions on the train. And besides, I have joint patrols with Lily. She's told me a few things, since the two of them are friends," Remus explained off-handedly.

"Ry is friends with Lily?!" James exclaimed, and the desperation on his face could not be missed. "I cannot believe this."

"Didn't you want them to be friends?" Peter inquired in confusion.

"Of course I wanted them to be friends!" James affirmed. "They're my two favourite people in the world. I always wanted them to get along. But, I never thought Lily would ever be closer with my sister than me. Am I being replaced?"

"They're your two favourite people in the world?!" Sirius sounded horribly offended. "I mean, Ryan I get, but Evans?! Evans is more important than me?"

Remus rolled his eyes and ignored Sirius' indignation. He turned, instead, to James. "Relax, mate. You're not being replaced. Ryan's just making friends - as is to be expected. You didn't actually think you'd be her only friend here, did you?"

James was silent for a while. He had this look of deep thought on his face - as if he were contemplating some great inner dilemma. That expression of great perplexity soon melted away into a new scowl, and he dropped his head miserably on his pillow again.

"You're all a bunch of nut-jobs," Peter observed, ruffling through the pages of his Charms textbook to look for the proper wand movement for the summoning spell.

"Thanks a lot, Pete," said Remus sardonically, before rolling out of his bed. "C'mon, pass me the textbook. I'll help you out with the spell."

"You sure?" Peter asked in concern, though his relief at receiving help was very evident.

"Yeah," Remus nodded. "I desperately need a distraction from the moon tonight. I have a feeling it'll be a bad one."

And so it would be. As the hours passed and the time to head to the shack neared, it became evident to the Marauders that Remus was more fidgety and moody than usual. His bones ached worse than ever before, and he had a sort of pent-up aggression that he unleashed at Peter whenever he failed at summoning the pillow. He was so irritable, in fact, that even James was startled out of his lethargic state.

When the time finally came for them to leave their dorm and escort Remus to the Hospital Wing - as was their tradition - the boys were very concerned. Something was strange about that night. In the four years they'd known Remus, never had they seen him this rash and impatient and energetic. They wanted to warn Madam Pomfrey of their observation, but since they weren't supposed to even know of their friend's lycanthropy, they opted against it. Merlin knew that chaos would ensue if the Hogwarts staff were to find out that Remus entrusted this carefully guarded secret to anyone.

Instead of talking to anyone, they opted to follow Madam Pomfrey and Remus to the shack. Thus, they played a muggle game of Rock, Paper, Scissors (taught to them by Remus once upon a time) to decide who would go to retrieve the Invisibility Cloak. Poor Peter, who nearly almost always lost by a landslide, was soon sent on his way to the dorm. He returned, heaving for breath, at just the right time. No sooner had the three Marauders concealed themselves with the Cloak, than the door to the Hospital Wing opened, revealing Pomfrey and Remus.

James, Sirius and Peter tailed the duo under the safety of the Invisibility Cloak and stopped a few feet away from the shack's entrance. They crouched behind a tree for extra security and watched as Pomfrey shot a well-aimed stunning spell at the root of the Whomping Willow to stop it from swinging its aggressive branches.

Just then, when Pomfrey and Remus were ducking into the entrance revealed at the root of the Whomping Willow, some decisive hand pulled the Cloak off of the three remaining Marauders.

Sirius, on instinct, gave a loud yelp, followed closely by a shriek from Peter and a surprised wheeze from James. The noise attracted a sharp stare from Pomfrey, and the three boys hurried to conceal themselves better behind the trees. The old medi-witch must not have taken notice of anything extraordinary, because she breathed a sigh of relief and ducked back into the shack's entrance.

With Remus and Pomfrey gone, the three boys had the liberty to breathe in and identify the hand that had taken away their Cloak.

"Ry!?" James yelled in surprise, blinking rapidly as if he were seeing a magic miracle before him.

Ryan Potter was indeed standing before them holding onto the Cloak and waving it in front of their faces in the most taunting manner.

"How did you know we were here?" Peter asked suspiciously, with his mouth open in awe.

"I grew up sneaking around under this Cloak. Surely you don't think I wouldn't recognise it, do you?" Ryan said, folding the Cloak in one quick movement and stashing it into the hollow trunk of a nearby tree. "Besides, you're not very slick with your sneaking around. I could hear you bickering under there from around twenty meters away."

"What are you doing here?" James questioned. His elation at seeing his twin was quickly replaced by concern for her well-being. "This place is dangerous."

"It is," Ryan confirmed with a firm nod of her head. "In fact, you three have no idea just how dangerous it is."

"What does that mean?" Sirius asked, looking slightly bothered by Ryan's tone of 'I-know-something-you-don't'.

"Did you notice anything strange about your friend tonight? Or something about the moon?" Ryan asked suggestively.

The boys seemed to consider this. They exchanged knowing glances. There had indeed been something strange about Remus. They hadn't really noticed the moon, but Remus had definitely been strange.

This silence seemed to be all the answer that Ryan was looking for. When nobody spoke, she continued. "I'm sensing by your intense silence that you did. Did Remus perhaps seem more aggressive, or energetic to you?"

Again, silence followed. This was getting creepy. How did Ryan know anything of Remus' behaviour?

"How do you know all this?" Sirius asked cautiously, narrowing his eyes as if he were investigating Ryan's every expression.

"Did any of you three notice that the moon is a bit... discoloured today? Maybe a bit more red than white?"

At this suggestion, the three boys hurried to peak at the moon through the thick trees surrounding them simultaneously. They looked back at Ryan with wide eyes. The moon was red; a dark, hunting crimson that reminded them keenly of blood. It was like a premonition shining down upon them - an omen of blood to be spilled by the end of the night.

"It's red," Sirius observed, stating the obvious.

"It's the blood moon," Ryan corrected, putting a name to the curious phenomenon before them. "It comes around once every three or so years. For muggles, it's just an interesting phenomenon that comes and goes, and wows them with its deep red hues. For wizard-kind, on the other hand, and especially for werewolves... it's not as pleasant or interesting."

"Does it affect them? Does it affect Remus?"

"You saw him for yourself today. What do you think? It makes them more bloodthirsty and much less easily restrained," Ryan explained.

James suddenly seemed to remember something, because his face betrayed a suspicious realisation. He gave his sister an accusatory stare and said, "wait a moment. Didn't you have detention to serve tonight?"

"I did," Ryan answered nonchalantly, as if she didn't see the issue.

"Then, how are you here and not there?"

"That's not the point, is it? The point is that I'm here to help you, because, believe me, you're going to need it."

"Well, uh, n-no offence," Peter stuttered, retreating into himself when Ryan's gaze met his. It was clear that he was a bit intimidated. "B-but I don't see how you could help. There's nothing we can really do as humans."

"Too right, Peter," Ryan agreed with an affable and easy-going smile.

This chipper attitude of hers confused the three boys. What exactly was her purpose there? Before they could ask, they saw a look of brief panic cross Ryan's face. In a flash, she reached into the hollow trunk where she'd placed the Cloak and draped it messily over the boys. Then, in a quick, fluid motion, she ducked behind a tree and pressed her back against it.

The boys didn't question her. They figured that Pomfrey had come back. In fact, they heard her silent humming and her light, flowy footsteps. Ryan peaked through her hiding spot and watched as the medi-witch swished her wand absentmindedly, and the giant tree's branches resumed their violent swinging. That was the Whomping Willow, alright. Very accurate name, indeed.

Once she saw her leave, Ryan emerged from her hiding spot and gave the signal to the boys to come out as well. Just then, when the moon was in full swing, they heard the cries coming from the shack - blood-curdling, desperate, painful screams that tore their souls apart - followed closely by a loud howl. Remus had transformed.

Having escaped detection altogether, the group of four stepped out of the thicket of trees and into the clearing before them. James was about to speak, to ask a million extra questions most probably, when something outstandingly strange happened.

From the opposite direction of the shack, near their former hiding spot, came a chilling sound. A howl. The four of them turned instantly at the sound, with wide eyes and trembling hands. It couldn't be... Certainly not another werewolf... And yet, stood before them, a little ways away was a suspiciously wolfish figure, hunched over in a motion that indicated it was ready to pounce.

"That- Is that a werewolf?" James dared ask through his confusion.

"Do you know any other creature that howls at the full moon?" Sirius deadpanned with a cool demeanour, even though anyone could tell that he was just as confused, and potentially a bit scared.

"But, that can't be Remus," James trailed off, continuing his thought process. "We literally just saw Poppy drop him off at the shack. We heard him transforming in the shack."

Peter trembled next to his two clearly taller and braver friends. He was so terrified, in fact, that he was beginning to retreat into himself, as if trying desperately to disappear off the face of the Earth.

Ryan, meanwhile, was suspiciously silent. She was looking unyieldingly at the wolfish figure before them with immense scrutiny. Her thoughts were indecipherable, but if one of the boys had looked hard enough, they'd have seen her face harden with the harsh realisation of what stood before them. Having identified the immediate threat in front of them, she declared, "it's not."

James looked at his sister suddenly. He saw her stiff body language and her grim expression. He saw the anger blooming in her hazel eyes. He saw her hands form fists. She was as determined as ever he'd seen her. In a meek and very much confused voice, he dared utter her name, "Ry...?"

"That's not Remus. You three, step away right now!" Ryan commanded in response to her brother's outreach, without ever breaking eye-contact with the strange beast before them.

"Ry, you're scaring me..." James' face grew impossibly pale with worry and the feeling of oncoming doom. His voice was slightly shaky. Even the great Gryffindor could not but cower in the face of the threat before them.

"Just do it! Get back, James! Now!" The sheer urgency in Ryan's voice left no room for discussion. The three confused and now scared boys obeyed, just as Ryan started getting closer to the creature.

They watched closely, absolutely horrified, as she came out of her guarded stance, and assumed instead, a confident, if not taunting, stride. When she spoke again, her voice was so clear and determined that it gave them chills - "And so we meet again, huh, Alex?"

The wolf in the distance just growled back.

"Man, all these years, I never knew you were this audacious - to show your face here after what you did," Ryan continued unperturbed. With each word, she got closer to the beast. "But then again, maybe it's not audacity. Maybe it's just plain, unbridled stupidity."

The wolf growled back harder, almost as if it could sense it was being taunted. It started moving forward, closer to Ryan, and it barred its teeth at her menacingly.

And still, though she stopped walking closer to the now emerging wolf, Ryan continued in an almost conversational manner. "Oh, don't show me your fangs. You don't scare me, Alex. I've seen you transform a million times by now. You know you're no match for me."

The wolf, now just a few meters away from her, took to moving in circles around her. Ryan, without a single sign of intimidation showing on her face, turned around to meet the wolf with her gaze.

"Ryan, what the fuck are you doing?" James whisper-yelled from behind her. The fear in his voice could no longer be contained.

"Stay out of this, James. I know what I'm doing. Dear Alex isn't here by accident. He wants something," she told her brother unflinchingly. Then, she diverted her attention back to the wolf. "Isn't that right, puppy?"

As if insulted by the nickname 'puppy', the wolf scratched the ground with its massive claws in anger. Saliva dripped down its barred fangs. It was a horrific sight, and yet, Ryan stayed unmoving in the midst of it all.

"C'mon, don't snap at me now. There was a time when you loved being called puppy," Ryan cooed with a teasing smile on her face. The grin, however, disappeared as she continued, coldly, "but then again, that was before you joined Greyback."

At first glance, the wolf did nothing to show it recognised Ryan's words. However, to the observant eye, its slight cowering back was clear.

"How's that going, by the way?" Ryan asked in that same bloody conversational tone. "Is it as glamorous and gratifying as you always hoped? Is running around doing Greyback's dirty work worth all that you gave up?"

The wolf suddenly cocked its head to the side, as if it were asking a question.

"Surprised? You shouldn't be. It's pretty obvious that you're still doing all of Greyback's bidding," Ryan explained in a most plain tone, like this was common knowledge. "After all, you never acted on your own. However, you stand to benefit from this errand, don't you? There's a reason you showed up here on Greyback's orders."

The wolf eyed her closely, and suddenly, its horrifying face contorted into a weird grimace akin to what would otherwise be described as a smirk.

"You'll never get it, you know. You're wasting your time," Ryan retaliated coolly.

The wolf growled again, this time more ferociously than before.

"And what's worse is that you're wasting my time, too. This standoff is useless. I'm not giving you what you want, so you might as well leave," Ryan said, waving the wolf away with a dismissive flick of her hand.

But the wolf didn't heed her advice. It stood, instead, on its hind legs, preparing to pounce, and elicited another aggressive growl.

Ryan visibly rolled her eyes, "ugh, can you at least stop growling already? You're doing a very poor job of intimidating me. If you insist on seeing this stupid thing through, at least stop running around and attack me."

Hearing this clear provocation, James was alarmed. From his place in the back as an observer, he bellowed, "Ryan!"

"Shut it, James," was all Ryan said, before focusing back on the wolf. "So, what's it going to be, Alex? Are you going to attack me? C'mon, you know you want to. Round one wasn't enough for you last term. So, let's go. Round two."

But the wolf still didn't move. It just growled again, rooted in its spot.

"Oh, please, Alex! Show some passion for once in your life. Come on! Pounce at me already! Don't be a coward!" Ryan egged him on. Her voice was loud and hoarse - she was basically screaming by that point.

Finally, the infuriated wolf, having had enough of Ryan's incessant taunting, pounced. It ran towards Ryan with amazing speed - it was so fast that the boys didn't even have time to realise what was happening. James watched on in horror, sure that his sister would be mauled to pieces right before him, and that he wouldn't be fast enough to do anything to help her.

But in the space of a few seconds, Ryan disappeared. In the place where she'd just stood, was a big, proud lion with its bright red mane of hair and its glorious golden fur.

The wolf collided with the lion, but its attack did not have the desired effect. The lion stood on its hind legs and pushed back with equal, if not excessive force. Its counter-attack was so strong that it sent the werewolf - a full-grown beast - tumbling backwards in a heap of disorganised limbs. To assert its dominance, the proud lion growled. The sound that emitted from its mouth was so loud and guttural that it shook the very ground the boys were standing on. Birds that had been unwittingly perched on nearby trees, scattered in flight at the sound.

The wolf obviously did not like the lion's modes of asserting dominance. Having recovered from the fall, it got up and got ready to pounce again. With renewed vigour, and a clearly tough opponent, it increased its force. It began a ceaseless series of attacks from all directions. It snapped its jaws, and swung its claws, and twisted its body around.

The lion, however, soon opted to get out of the defensive and move, instead, to the offensive. Showcasing its incredible strength and superior agility (as well as its much greater size), the lion easily fended off the werewolf's attacks and regained the upper hand.

The boys watched this encounter in confusion. The reality of it all had not settled within them. They had moved backwards to clear the way for the two attacking animals and stared with wide eyes and trembling limbs. What was going on?

All was going well - for the lion, at least. It was clear that its fighting ability was much more potent and superior than its opponent. It fought with such determination, confidence and... anger, that the werewolf was just getting tossed around hopelessly (even with the power of the blood moon on its side). It wouldn't take long for the lion to assert its dominance once and for all, and keep the threat at bay for good.

But then, all Hell broke loose. From the distance, in the opposite direction from the two warring animals, a big crash sound echoed in the Forest. The three Marauders, alarmed, turned around frantically to stare at the source of the noise. Their stomachs sunk instantly. Another werewolf had emerged from the shack. Remus was here to join the party.

The bloodthirsty werewolf took notice of the two already warring animals a little ways away. So enticing was the prospect of unleashing its aggression in a fight, that the werewolf didn't even notice the three boys hiding away behind the rows of trees.

It pounced, instead, with a loud growl, at the lion's back. Remus, who lacked control over his mind and actions as a werewolf, attacked the lion restlessly. His only guiding compass in the brawl was his kin - the other werewolf. A sense of primal camaraderie enveloped the werewolf, as it joined forces with its fellow creature against the now struggling lion.

While one werewolf had been an easy enough threat to handle, two werewolves, both empowered by the blood moon, were far more worthy opponents. The two wolves' strengths combined earned them the upper hand in the fight. They clawed at the lion in unison, and scratched over and over with unprecedented animosity.

The lion was losing. The three observers, rendered both speechless and powerless by their shock and fear, watched helplessly as the lion - their defender from the werewolves' bloodlust - was overpowered. It was now laying on the ground unmoving, taking the werewolves' attacks boldly but with evidently diminishing strength. The pride of its stride was gone. Its shiny mane was impossibly ruffled and tangled, and its glossy gold fur was matted with blood and dirt.

The werewolves were going to win. It was clear as day. The reality of their horrid situation weighed at the boys' hearts. They knew they had to leave. It was the right thing to do. They had to retreat back to the castle and alert the staff. There was nothing else that they, themselves, could do. But neither of them could bring themselves to move. Because Ryan was still here, somewhere. Even though they'd lost her from their sight, she was here, and they couldn't leave her behind.

The lion was still losing, but Ryan wasn't going to let that happen. Ryan Potter didn't lose. In a last ditch attempt to gain the upper hand in this unfair fight, the lion looked around restlessly. There had to be a way to put an end to this.

And indeed there was. A few meters away, there were a few vines. Professor Kettleburn, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, had used those same vines to restrict the Hippogriffs that he'd shown to his fourth year students a couple days ago. A wild thought crossed the lion's head. If those vines could hold Hippogriffs, what were the chances that they could restrain two grown werewolves? Slim; the chances were slim, but they were the best odds the lion had.

So, in a moment of repose, when the two werewolves were only preparing to pounce again, the lion took its chance. It once again disappeared, and in its place, emerged a very badly bruised and bleeding Ryan Potter.

For a moment, Ryan just lay there. She felt a horrible ache in her flesh and bones. She could feel the blood pouring out of her still open wounds and she already knew of the scars that would inevitably form (if she lived long enough to see them). Moving even an inch was an unimaginable feat. Her plan now seemed impossible. She was far too weak to execute it.

For the first time in her life, Ryan was ready to give up. She was so tired - oh, so very tired. All she wanted to was to give in to her exhaustion. She'd fought enough in her life, hadn't she? She'd fought against so many opponents. She'd lost so much. What more could she lose?

The answer to her question lay just a few feet away. Ryan regained enough of her strength to raise her head and meet her brother's gaze. James was looking at her with such raw sadness and fear that it truly broke her heart. Suddenly, she didn't know what hurt more: her wounds or her heart. That gut-wrenching look on James' face... it awakened an urge to fight that had been unbeknownst to her.

How could she even think of giving up when her brother was so close? The idea of giving in to exhaustion seemed preposterous now - in fact, she no longer felt exhausted. Adrenaline was pulsing in her veins. She felt rejuvenated. Her wounds disappeared. She felt the strength surge back into her limbs. The control that she'd abandoned before was coming back to her, and she had a firmer grip on it now than ever before.

With this renewed energy, she pulled herself up and stood in anticipation of the werewolves' joint attack. She looked at them with courage and challenge in her eyes. Ryan Potter would not be so easily overtaken.

The werewolves indeed pounced. They ran with astonishing speed at their target - now, nothing but a fifteen year old girl of dwindling strength. Or so it may have seemed.

When the wolves were a few paces away from her, Ryan threw herself aside, in the direction of the abandoned vines. As the werewolves collided in the middle, where Ryan had previously stood, she dashed to the vines and grabbed them with immense urgency. She then ran back to the confused and very much hurt werewolves, and climbed on Remus' back with her bare feet. Standing now on top of the two discombobulated werewolves, Ryan threw the vines into the air and whipped out her wand.

Upon grasping her wand, she felt a startling amount of power course back through her. This was good. This was familiar. This was her natural state. She smirked weakly and pointed her wand up at the sky, at the vines she'd tossed into the air and mumbled a spell.

The three boys didn't hear what she said, and they certainly didn't recognise any incantation, but in a moment's time, the two werewolves were tied together with the vines.

Ryan, satisfied with her handiwork, jumped off of the werewolves' backs and watched as the two beasts fought against their restraints to no avail. No matter how hard they pushed, or bit, or clawed at the vines, they did not relent. It was a safe bet to say that the werewolves wouldn't be able to move for at least the rest of the night.

Ryan smiled a victor's smile and met her brother's gaze in triumph. James was flabbergasted, to say the least, and horribly confused, but mostly, unbelievably relieved. He, Sirius and Peter, now reassured that the werewolves weren't breaking away from their prison anytime soon, bolted towards Ryan with all the urgency and elation of three teenagers who had just escaped the claws of death.

But before they could reach their saviour, Ryan's adrenaline subsided, her wounds caught up to her, and she fell down, unconscious.