What? No, they can't leave the supplies undefended. Even though it's getting further away by the minute, Matt can hear the sounds of their enemies in hot pursuit of the snowmobile, and the sounds of gunshots and shouting. He struggles against Sif's hold, but she's far stronger than him and all he manages to achieve is making his cracked ribs flare hot and sharp in his chest, and jostle his broken arm so bone grates against bone.
He doesn't have too much time to fight against the inevitable, though, because they're still not in the clear and he's forced to use his good arm to help fend off the Fallen as they target the obvious weak spot: him. He momentarily loses track of the snowmobile in favor of focusing on the immediate threat, lashing out like a cornered alley cat, vicious and hissing in pain, no easy target despite only having one good working arm, especially not with an Asgardian warrior at his side making up the difference.
And then they're just... gone.
That easy?
Matt is suspicious immediately, head cocked to one side as he tries to make out where they've gone, if they're regrouping for an ambush. But relative silence falls in the forest around him, and now he can again hear the noise of the convoy, further and further away, still wrapped in the shroud of battle noise. Too distant for them to catch up and make any difference. The realization makes him bare his teeth in a silent snarl, frustrated and helpless to do anything to aid them.
That's always been the worst part.
He can't tell the difference between night and day lately, the extreme cold making little difference in how he can perceive if the sun is up or down, so Harley's suggestion makes him recoil a bit. "You want to camp out here?"
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He doesn't have too much time to fight against the inevitable, though, because they're still not in the clear and he's forced to use his good arm to help fend off the Fallen as they target the obvious weak spot: him. He momentarily loses track of the snowmobile in favor of focusing on the immediate threat, lashing out like a cornered alley cat, vicious and hissing in pain, no easy target despite only having one good working arm, especially not with an Asgardian warrior at his side making up the difference.
And then they're just... gone.
That easy?
Matt is suspicious immediately, head cocked to one side as he tries to make out where they've gone, if they're regrouping for an ambush. But relative silence falls in the forest around him, and now he can again hear the noise of the convoy, further and further away, still wrapped in the shroud of battle noise. Too distant for them to catch up and make any difference. The realization makes him bare his teeth in a silent snarl, frustrated and helpless to do anything to aid them.
That's always been the worst part.
He can't tell the difference between night and day lately, the extreme cold making little difference in how he can perceive if the sun is up or down, so Harley's suggestion makes him recoil a bit. "You want to camp out here?"