Wither says *he felt no pain as he landed on his side, blinking in confusion momentarily before he was more or less helped to his feet. Not bothering to dust himself off, his hollow eyes glanced off toward the distance in which the voices of his pursuers were still coming. He then turned his empty gaze back to his "rescuer", accompanied with an abrupt tilt of his head. He considered speaking, briefly, wondering whether or not he could trust this stranger; he narrowed his eyes at Clone's white coat, similar to those his captors wore... But the thought dispersed as soon as it struck him. Wither realized that he had little choice, should he have wished to escape those he was running from. That aside, if this were a trap, the presence of foreign hatred that boiled within him assured that the matter would be handled. Without a second thought, Wither gave a curt twitch of a nod and simply gestured for the scientist to lead the way* |