[ News of witches comes sooner than any of them would have liked. It's only a month before Alucard sees Trevor again. The speakers are not in tow, still at least a week's ride away, and the unconscious woman in his arms is not one of their number. The smell of smoke - thankfully smoke alone, and not charred flesh, is thick on both of them.
He can, at least, see the clinic. Crossing the iron gate into the garden, passing all the wards intended to protect the clinic from him, specifically, is another matter entirely. He makes it about halfway up the path before the cold and numbness becomes too much to stand. Once he falls, he throws pebbles at the door to try to get attention and then, once he loses the ability to throw them far enough, takes to trying to edges closer to it, inch by inch, putting his wings between the patient and the ground to keep from dragging her along it. ]
no subject
He can, at least, see the clinic. Crossing the iron gate into the garden, passing all the wards intended to protect the clinic from him, specifically, is another matter entirely. He makes it about halfway up the path before the cold and numbness becomes too much to stand. Once he falls, he throws pebbles at the door to try to get attention and then, once he loses the ability to throw them far enough, takes to trying to edges closer to it, inch by inch, putting his wings between the patient and the ground to keep from dragging her along it. ]