Whatever exhausted, twilit stage of semi-consciousness Irahl happens to be at that point in the night, his brain is hardwired to dump adrenaline into his veins at unfamiliar sounds. It's probably not the first time it has happened tonight, in fact. But this time, the phantom threat that he was able to dispel after whatever had startled him last time doesn't go away when his eyes fly open and his entire being goes still while he listens.
As soon as he can tell that the footsteps are approaching and then slowing near the door, he is moving, silently rolling off the couch and onto his feet. He registers movement from Vincent, but it hardly enters his conscious awareness compared to whatever's outside.
One of the many people who had seen him earlier had tipped off the authorities, or a bounty hunter, or anyone else who might take exception to the presence of an illegal, monstrous, rifle-wielding fugitive. That's who's outside.
Especially without any of his gear on, Irahl can move quietly when he needs to. A second or two after the knock on the door, the sniper is posted up against the wall in the shadows of the kitchen, one lunge's worth of distance from the door, knife held down by his side and ready.
no subject
As soon as he can tell that the footsteps are approaching and then slowing near the door, he is moving, silently rolling off the couch and onto his feet. He registers movement from Vincent, but it hardly enters his conscious awareness compared to whatever's outside.
One of the many people who had seen him earlier had tipped off the authorities, or a bounty hunter, or anyone else who might take exception to the presence of an illegal, monstrous, rifle-wielding fugitive. That's who's outside.
Especially without any of his gear on, Irahl can move quietly when he needs to. A second or two after the knock on the door, the sniper is posted up against the wall in the shadows of the kitchen, one lunge's worth of distance from the door, knife held down by his side and ready.