Everett accepts Kamille's assistance in getting back onto his feet just in time to follow her gaze to see the bull of a man pushing his way through the frenzy toward them. 

"Yup, getting out is a good idea."

He half contemplates snatching the locket from the raven's beak to return it to the angry man and save them from a thrashing, but he thinks better of it. No need to get his eyes pecked out for his trouble and a black eye is easier to recover from than losing an eye.

Seeing that Flint is more than happy to punch his way out, Everett looks for the nearest exit for himself and Kamille. There's no clear way to the door, so they'll have to force their way through one way or another.

He looks at Kamille. "Stay close, I'll clear us a path for a few seconds!" 

Raising his hand, he focuses on channeling the air around it. A breeze gathers and lifts his hair and hem of his jacket until he throws it towards the door. A sudden gust buffets the throngs of brawling patrons, pushing them out of the way and interrupting the fight for long enough for the trio to escape.^[1]

Everett hooks his arm around Kamille's and makes a break for the door before the burly man can catch up to them. 

"Flint! Time to go!" He calls back to the fist-fighting cowboy, hoping that he's got enough sense to know when it's time to cut and run. 

---

[1] Gust thrust

    Knocking the fellblood flat on their back was enough to make Flint's heart beat like an overclocked engine, and tiny sparks started to fly from him. Luckily, the bar was chaotic and loud enough that only those close to him could hear its audible rhythmic hum. Flint paused in place as his temperature continued to rise; his body worked overtime to regulate the heat, and trails of steam rose from him. The sounds of fighting around him seemed muffled, and time slowed as he breathed heavily in the middle of it all. Flint knew something was wrong. It felt as if, any minute, he would combust if he continued at this pace.

    That realization made his grin dwindle, and he gripped the front of his shirt as his chest glowed a bright orange. He tried holding his breath. Would depriving himself of oxygen put his internal flames out just like any other blaze? After waiting a few breathless seconds, his temperature and heart rate continued to rise. Then, like a knife, a voice cut through the muffled scuffles surrounding him, Flint directed his attention towards the source. Everett barked something at him before making a break towards the door. Even though the only thing Flint could make out was his name, he could assume what the half-elf meant; it was time to go. Under different circumstances, the cowboy would've disagreed, but something was off, and so he staggered towards the exit.

    Flint watched as Everett and Kamille slipped out the front door, and with any luck, he would be soon to follow. However, mere seconds after the two slipped out, a trio of town sheriffs quickly busted through the door just to add to his stretch of bad luck. The tall human in the front surveyed the room before inhaling and barking, "Flint Caldwell, we know you're in here! Come to the door with your hands up, and this won't get messy!" Flint cursed under his breath and slipped into a group of people as his exit was blocked. His heat continued rising as he eyed his options before his eyes locked onto a window nearby. Flint took off in a dead sprint without hesitation, hurling himself through the glass pane. Landing into a roll as scards scattered around him, he was thankful to finally be out, though he couldn't waste any more time as he hopped to his feet and ran in the direction he assumed Kamille and Everett went.

Kamille chuckles seeing Flint looks terribly happy as he dove into the fight without regrets. While she found it wildly amusing herself, the proximity with the brawl was not something she was used with and generally speaking did not agree with her self care routine. Hardly a bloody nose or black eye matched her make up. With that in mind, she remained close to Everett.



It was hardly surprising, but still she looked amused when the one armed man showed his mastery over the sky domain in a swift spell that parted the crowd and lined their way out. Locking arms tightly with Everett, she looked back to Flint. The man would her voice in his head, clear as if she was whispering in his ear:



Flint! We're heading out! Come on before the guards arrive![1]



As if she had summoned them into existance, as soon as they crossed the doorframe, the shadow of the three sherifs crossed them. They seemed to recognize Flint imediatelly, locking eyes with him as the door closed behind them.



Oh, fuck.



The Witch had slowed down, pulling Everett's arm as she looked behind to try and see what would happen to Flint, her mind racing as she tried to think of anything she could do to-



-CRACK-



With a shower of glass and splinters, Flint rolled out of the window in an attempt to get away from the sherifs. Barely a second before she let out a loud yelp, her wits finally came back to her. Kamille stomped, and a rumbling could be felt beneath the ground, before a large pillar of stone sprouted out from the earth [2]. It was placed directly across the door of the stabilishment, blocking the exit. The guards would either have to squeeze their way through the sides, or take the window just like Flint.



"Come! Follow me!"



Once again on the run, Kamille led and pulled Everett by the arm and looked over her shoulder to see if Flint was following, entering a maze of irregular backstreets and corridors. She looked determined, like someone who knew the streets well. Zeinav had become a second home to her, and still it looked kinda out of place for a fancy lady like her to know her way through the dirtiest streets of the desert city.



[1]Message

[2]Crystaline shard

As things escalate with the appearance of the town guards calling for Flint to surrender, Everett pauses for a brief moment. Something stirs in him. A conflict he doesn't really understand. He should be doing something. His muscles tense as if coiling to spring into action, but for what reason or in which direction, he doesn't know. It's not until Kamille pulls on him, throwing up a barrier to block the door as she does, that he snaps out of it. 

Throwing his hand up, a thick bank of fog suddenly fills the chaotic tavern behind them, obscuring the guard's line of sight on those currently fleeing by any means necessary. Confusion further spreads through the tavern as now no one can see shit. 

Fleeing the scene of the brawl, Everett is pulled around by Kamille through the streets of Zeinav City regardless of if he wants to be or not. The twists and turns quickly aid in their escape, the city providing more than enough corners to break the guard's line of sight and confuse anyone in pursuit. 

Once the trio reach a safe distance, the shouts of the guards a distant echo as they try to regain any modicum of control over the situation, Everett catches his breath and leans back against the wall in the alleyway they've ducked into. 

"Well, that could have gone better." Taking a quick glance over everyone. They're all a bit roughed up but otherwise will survive to see the next dawn at least. He notes some of the scrapes and bruises Kamille sustained in the fight and a look of concern spreads across his face. "Are you alright?" 

He then looks to Flint, and while he opens his mouth to ask the same of the fighter, a nagging in the back of his mind makes his brow furrow. "The guards called you out specifically. Any reason for that?"

---

[1] Fog Cloud