When she got over the shock of the fall, Emma realized her positioning, and briefly felt a mixture of humiliation and anger. Fenix, though, whether he knew it or not, tamed a potentially violent lioness through the power of disinterest alone. Which was good on him. On one hand, that certainly gave her all the more reason to trust him, and on the other, that gave her less reason to beat him to a bloody pulp.

Again.

"I'd hit you on principle," she said through a wince, "but I think I already did."

Emma got off of him, and though she'd been mostly insulting towards him whenever the opportunity arose, she offered him a hand to stand, and-- if only briefly --her shoulder. She was in better shape to walk than he, after all, and just helping him stand would be fine.

". . . great," she said as she looked up at the ledge, "Why do you have to be such a lard-ass? Would it pain you to lose a few dozen pounds?"

After Emma thankfully got off of him, Fenix managed to swallow his pride enough to accept her help in standing. He leaned on her heavily at first, followed by the wall, panting. He'd never been terribly strong, so the biggest problem arising from his nine month nap turned out to be the complete loss of all of his stamina. It had already been a long day of walking; he wasn't sure how long he could keep this up.

"Probably," he deadpanned in response to her quip. If he lost any more weight there wouldn't be much left of him; he was already dangerously skinny for how tall he was.

"If I give you a boost, think you can you pull yourself up?" he asked. "If you can get out, you can go back and grab a rope." Of course, if she couldn't then he would have preferred for her not to try; he would rather avoid getting crushed by her a second time.

"Hm . . ." she trailed off.

Emma sized Fenix up, then looked up to the ledge . . . to the best of her abilities, at least. She judged how well Fenix would be able to lift her, stood on the tips of her toes, and tried to touch the ledge. That didn't work. She was a few feet shy. Then she jumped. Still too short. Emma put her hands upon her hips and frowned. If she was less short, this would not be a problem.

Damn you, traitorous stature.

"No," she replied, "And I don't trust you holding me up with those arms."

Emma shielded her eyes (hoping it'd help her see down the hall before her) and peered down the hall, but to no avail. It was dark as all holy hell down there.

"Do you have a light or something?"

Fenix considered this for a moment, before sighing. He might have been able to see well in the dark, but even he couldn't see in pitch black, which was what would await them further down the hall. Without a lantern--or even a match for that matter--he only had one choice.

He took a few steps back from Emma, took a deep breath, and tapped into his mana. With the fwoosh-ing sound of a gas oven being lit, a pair of wings made of dark flame sprouted from his back.

"This will have to do until we find another light source," he stated. His wings gave off a dim, umbral glow. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

"Eh, uh, heh--yeah, that should be fine, uh, for now," Emma said awkwardly.

She'd never truly gotten over her shock at seeing something supernatural. Circumstances pending, she could perhaps be less shocked, but only because urgency was demanded and she needed to act quickly for something or the rather. If there was no sense of urgency behind her situation, then she had the perfect opportunity to be shocked, surprised, and somewhat awed.

Because she unabashedly thought those wings looked totally badass. She didn't even want to try touching them, though. With her luck, she'd burn her hand off or something. That really wasn't a good idea, neither now nor ever. She'd just have to stave off the urge.

"Lead the way?" Emma asked, then on second thought . . . "Or should I?"

Her awkwardness would probably be noticeable to Fenix. She'd gone from witty and full of quips and insults to hesitant and distant.

Fenix kept his face carefully neutral; he was too used to traveling with Kaiser, and forgot that the girls weren't used to his wings. He hadn't had them out since his little show in Hillcrest. If it weren't for the fact that she'd seen them before, he wouldn't have even considered it. Clearly she wasn't exactly comfortable with them.

Not that he could blame her. He was a freak of nature; the only person who'd ever been comfortable around him was almost certainly crazy.

"You should be in front," he intoned. Leading the way was only the more gentlemanly thing to do when you didn't have fire sprouting from your back.

"Sure . . ."

So they were volatile, then. Otherwise, he wouldn't have minded leading the way. Because he was a guy and that's just what guys did. Unless they were out to take advantage of a girl, and Fenix had already been given a dozen and a half chances (not of her volition, of course) chances to take advantage of Emma and Mayako both. If he hadn't by now, then he most definitely had no intentions on it.

Before she started off, she checked her side, then around on the ground, for her wooden sword. Shit! It must have still been up there. Well, she'd just have to get it later. It wasn't like any animals or marauders had interests in wooden swords.

Whilst she walked, she felt a little awkward. So, maybe her reaction to Fenix's wings was a little harsh. Had she met him months ago, she'd haven't thought that. But now, having seen a select few reactions to her face, she didn't much like it when someone saw her as a freak or someone to be pitied. Not that she thought either about Fenix--well, maybe the former, but that had nothing to do with the supernatural. That was just because his name was Fenix Black.

"So," she paused, "I bet you pick up all the ladies with those things."

"Sure, when they don't scream in terror and run away," he replied dryly. Naturally, girls didn't exactly flock to him when he showed off his powers. He suspected the only reason Mayako and Emma tolerated it was because they'd been exposed to the supernatural before. Most people distrusted anything abnormal as it was; with his appearance, they were downright terrified.

Right up to the point when they gathered together and grabbed pitchforks and torches, anyway.

"Only one person I've ever met has been particularly enamored with them." There was a small pause. "It was a guy." A strange guy, though no stranger he was. He wondered what he was up to now; probably still tagging along with that caravan, he supposed.

Emma was actually surprised by that. She turned around and walked backwards for a few seconds, if only to give Fenix her incredulous look.

"You've got to be kidding me," said Emma.

Not about the guy thing. For some reason, that struck her as completely understandable and perfectly normal. But that was for a later comment.

"I think they're awesome." Emma then turned around. Judging by her tone alone, it was easy to tell that she was serious about that.

That later comment then finally happened:

"Also, yes, I could see it. You're a very pretty man, Fenix Black," she said with mock seriousness, "I can't see why another man wouldn't be interested in you."

For once, Fenix completely failed to hide his surprise. That it would shock her that people would run from him was just...strange. He was tempted to ask how she that could possibly be unusual to her, but fortunately she continued to say something about his other comment, and allowed him to regain his composure.

"...Having a girlfriend gave me enough trouble. Wouldn't begin to know what to do with a guy." Always speaking in a deadpan meant there times when it was difficult to tell if he was joking or not; this was undoubtedly one of those times.

"Oh. Guys are easy," Emma said.

Emma, on the other hand, was not deadpan in the least, at least not when she was being serious. It was so easy to tell when she was being sardonic or not; there was always that natural low to her pitch whenever she was being particularly "bratty," as anyone would've called her before. When she was being honest about something or at least was devoid of insult or criticism, she had a slight natural falsetto to her voice. Once upon a time, she did all that was in her power to lower that by a few notches, all just to sound older. Nowadays, though, she sincerely didn't care about hiding her age. She'd no more reason to.

Nevertheless, she was completely honest about this mini-lecture.

"You give them some eye candy, let them do a bit of feeling around--then give them a firm kiss and a tight squeeze in the right place, and they're putty in your hands. Simple as--"

then Emma realized all too late something Fenix had said. It'd taken her a moment . . .

"Wait--" she interrupted herself, "You have a girlfriend?"

If Emma had turned around again at that moment, she would have seen the way he stared at her skeptically, trying to decide if she was serious or if she was just being precocious. It was probably the latter. Or at least, he hoped so.

Before she got too into it though, she ended up backpedaling to a detail Fenix belatedly wished he hadn't let slip. "Had one," he corrected. For better or worse, though, they reached something interesting before she could ask any more questions about it.

The hallway ended, leading into a room; if there had been a door there, it was long gone by now. He squinted, trying to see ahead of them. There was something on the floor, something- "Emma, wait," he said suddenly, attempting to tug her back, but it would probably be too late.

She would have already seen that laying on the floor in the room ahead was a clearly human skeleton.

Emma was actually interested in what Fenix had to say about that. Had one? That meant they weren't together, and the why modifier here intrigued her. Of course, that was unfortunately interrupted, as Fenix saw something important enough to command Emma to stop, and--

Wait, what? Was that . . . was that seriously a . . .

Yes, those were skeletal remains that she nearly tripped over. Rather than balk and whine like a girl her stature normally would, she stared down at it with a morbid curiosity, but was ultimately more uncomfortable with the suggestion of skeletal remains than the remains themselves. Otherwise, she'd have knelt down and tried figuring out as much about this person as she could.

"I . . . uh . . ."

She looked around the room, feeling suddenly uncomfortable with where she was, and took a few steps back, hoping to at least stand by Fenix's side.

"Suddenly I regret not taking a chance with your arms," Emma whispered, as if someone out in these halls or this room could hear her.

Fenix allowed Emma to stay at his side, wrapping an arm around the back of her shoulders. While the intention wasn't comfort so much as to insure she didn't accidentally back into his wings, his arm was there nevertheless.

"We can still go back," he offered quietly. "I might not be able to lift you with my arms, but you can probably climb up me and get out."

The sight of the remains didn't phase him in the slightest, and if Emma were to think it about it would be pretty clear he'd seen remains before--probably ones much more fresh than this poor soul.

Emma backed into something soft and stable, and it was only when she turned her head to the side that she realized it was Fenix's arm. She shrunk a bit during this, half feeling the want to duck away and put space between her and him, and half wanting to just stand there and let him keep his arm around her. The only folk that'd willingly touched her in the past few months were doing her harm. Excepting a hug from Mayako, Fenix had been the only one to not hurt hurt when he touched her.

"I guess so," she muttered.

Nevertheless, she took a step forward, away from him and his arm, and didn't progress back any farther. She kept space between her and his wings.

"I mean, we can keep going, sure," she cleared her throat, "I just don't want to end up like that guy, got it?"