The heavy crunch of Prometheus' footsteps overshadows the more planned steps their masked companion makes and both in turn muffle the soft crunches of Natasha's own boots in the snow. Hunting in freezing weather isn't ideal, even for the woman trained and raised for such an environment. Her breathing is slow and steady, calm in a way an ordinary person's would not be in such a situation.

For as generous as they're being, Natasha knows they also cannot appear to be weak or passive. A message will be sent. Anyone not interested in peace and order...well. They'd best not pick a fight with their organization.

They're alongside a darkened storefront, it's windows long since broken in. The crunch of glass mixes with the crunch of the snow underfoot and large drifts have already settled inside. All the stores on this stretch of road look the same, long since ransacked and looted of anything worth taking. The tracks are more chaotic now, crisscrossing over each other and darting this way and that through the snow. Matt will notice it first with his hearing the closer they get.

Movement upstairs in the building they're next to. Faint crunches of snow across the street. Shoes or maybe claws? Clanking against fire escapes. There's not just one of these targets. There's a gang of them. Shifting on their feet. Waiting.

"Time to earn our keep." Natasha mutters darkly as she peers into the smashed in storefront. She sees footprints inside and can guess there might be backrooms and upstairs still viable even if the store itself is empty. "We need to find those supplies, I don't care who you beat it out of. I'm going to take a look in here."

It's all the warning they'll get before she's climbing into the smashed window by her lonesome and making her way upstairs. Sorry boys, you're on your own for the moment.