Raju's fingers are tight around the knife. The blade of the knife burns in the dark. The air burns inside his throat. Behind him there's a heavy, solid noise — Francis must be trying to force the door — from the darkness there's a rough, animal noise, something between a bark and a growl, the shining eyes move up in a leap, claws shining in the moonlight too, Raju feels something pulling him from behind and lets himself loosen just enough to let it pull him backward through the doorway, he slams the door—
There's a thump against the wood outside. The fire over his knife flares at the noise and Raju's still for an instant, watching, and then moves forward and uses its light to see the doorknob, hand moving as quick as he can to lock the door. Then he steps back again, turning on his heel. The fire over the knife is starting to gutter, flaring and dimming with every few beats of his heart. It doesn't make for very much light, and the fading of the moment, the realisation that they might be safe, is making Raju conscious of it in a way he wasn't before. He holds the knife half behind him, shaking it to try and put the fire out, and steps toward Francis, trying to see what he can of his face.
"Francis." His voice is heavy with relief, with all the breath he hadn't allowed himself to take when the threat was too near, and his free hand grabs at Francis' upper arm. "We did it."
Obvious, maybe, but worth saying for the laughter creeping into his voice, and the triumphant smile growing over his face. Not much warmer than it had been outside, and darker, but safe. That feels worth being proud of, right now.
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There's a thump against the wood outside. The fire over his knife flares at the noise and Raju's still for an instant, watching, and then moves forward and uses its light to see the doorknob, hand moving as quick as he can to lock the door. Then he steps back again, turning on his heel. The fire over the knife is starting to gutter, flaring and dimming with every few beats of his heart. It doesn't make for very much light, and the fading of the moment, the realisation that they might be safe, is making Raju conscious of it in a way he wasn't before. He holds the knife half behind him, shaking it to try and put the fire out, and steps toward Francis, trying to see what he can of his face.
"Francis." His voice is heavy with relief, with all the breath he hadn't allowed himself to take when the threat was too near, and his free hand grabs at Francis' upper arm. "We did it."
Obvious, maybe, but worth saying for the laughter creeping into his voice, and the triumphant smile growing over his face. Not much warmer than it had been outside, and darker, but safe. That feels worth being proud of, right now.