It was the middle of the day, and Abby was shaking her bum to the music blasting in her bedroom, singing loudly while the crup wagged her tail and tilted her head like she thought Abby would take her for another walk. They'd gone to the park earlier, where Abby was known in the muggle neighborhood as the odd girl who carried around a lantern. Abby was just happy to get outside, and didn't mind hauling the 'sneeze-catcher' around. Whatever progress Healer Foley and her sister had made on the dagger's curse had decreased the symptoms she was experiencing, much to Abby's relief.

Despite the stress of the last few months, Abby had a lot to look forward to. The Hogwarts students were being let out for summer break in June, and she'd heard rumors of New People coming into town for the Tetrawizard Tournament in the fall. Sasha had somehow convinced Aileen to let Abby take a few classes with him this summer, which meant More New People and Less Studying! Because what were classes for if not to socialize?

The crup went on alert, and suddenly barked, interrupting Abby's thoughts. Abby had left the bedroom door open, and glanced at it, then looked at the crup, who she assumed was trying to sing to the music. Ironically, the song was in parseltongue from that Wild Beings band.

"Silly Roxy!" Abby laughed, but stopped dancing when the crup raced forward to bark at something under the bed.

The barks soon turned to growls. Thinking the cat was being obnoxious, Abby plopped to the floor and stuck her head underneath.

Three pairs of glowing eyes and hissing tongues greeted her.

Abby screamed, bumped her head, and scrambled back up, horrified when the orange and black striped snake slithered out. Roxy the crup bounded in front of the girl, snarling, and as the snake's heads reared back, Abby scooped the crup in her arms and ran out of the room.

The Runespoor followed with surprising speed.

Abby was already on the second floor, so she ran for the tiny owl room and slammed the door behind her, locking it. She set the crup down, and Roxy promptly started growling at the door. The snake's hisses sounded through the wood.

The owl hooted at her, disturbed by all of the commotion. Abby opened the cage with shaking hands, and looked around the room, grabbing the first quill and parchment she could find. Damn it! She should have run downstairs and used the floo. But she'd panicked, and now she was trapped. At least she was stuck in the owlery.

Fighting back tears, she stopped to think. "Roxy, be quiet!" Abby snapped, pulling the dog away from the door, only to see Roxy bound back and snarl at it again. She didn't understand how the snake had gotten into the house. Unless it had gotten in when she'd been on her walk. Obviously, it was a message, and it wasn't tough for her to figure out it was about Trevor, who was doing his damnedest to avoid Azkaban. She shook her head, wanting to owl Aileen first, but suspecting that her sister would rush home and try to blast at the snake herself - anything to avoid involving the Ministry.

There was one person she knew at the MLE. The one person that Aileen would not want her to contact. But he was involved with Trevor's arrest; Aileen had finally told her that, and he might handle it quietly. If she could trust him.

Making a decision, Abby wrote the note in her bubbly scrawl, her handwriting shakier and messier than normal. She tied the letter to the owl's leg, then opened the window and let it fly out. Abby glanced down. Too far to jump. Shit.

The note said this:

Trevelyan,

Big scary runespoor in the house. I bet you don't hear that everyday. No joke though. It's like five feet long and it has all three heads and I'm hiding in the owlery on the second floor and it's right outside the door hissing and it's freaking me out. The crup is with me and I'm fine. I don't know where the cat is. I don't know how it got in. I don't know what to do. Aileen's still at work. Please help?

-Abby

Adon had never been fond of owls. But this owl had interrupted a particularly productive meeting with him and Jonas at Jonas' cubicle--they were assembling a list of Potter jokes and composing a mock resume.  It was one of the few moments of comedic relief that Adon had indulged in since--since everything that had happened mid-May--and he wasn't very much enjoying the thought of returning back to work, prompted by a moulting avian which still smelled faintly of its own feces.

But so it had. Owl: 1. Adon: Well, frankly, Adon had scored quite a few points against the entire owl population. He had stopped counting.

With the resounding crack that usually accompanied Adon's Apparations, Jonas and Adon now found themselves on the doorstep of Professor Aileen Reid's home.  Adon's eyes grazed the edifice, lingering on the windows of the lofty second story.  "I'll restrain the snake--while you get the girl out."  If whoever--or whatever--had let the Runespoor in was still around--well, Adon would deal with that, too, when it came.  But they couldn't deal with it while on this side of the heavy wooden door.

"Ready." Taking a breath and not losing a beat, he pivoted sideways, delivering a swift kick just below the handle.  The door sung open with great force and Adon, pulling his wand out, crossed through with fluid, close-to-the-ground movements.

"Clear," he whispered, waving Jonas in.  There was a soft sound from above.  Locking his jaw, Adon  proceeded into the entryway. Odds were very slim the Runespoor had been lounging about in the time it had taken them to respond; it was either still with the girl, or hiding from them.  Girl first.

Suddenly glad  he'd indulged Jonas in teaching tactical hand signals, Adon gave a hand motion that Jonas should follow as he crept as quietly as he could up the stairs to the right.

It was, Adon realized, remarkably easier to spot a orange-and-black striped three-headed snake than an enemy in camoflage.  Adon caught only a blur of orangeandblack as he rounded the corner to the left, before he pulled back, habitually holding his breath.  Signal: enemy. 

Tilting his head towards Jonas, he gave a command he felt pretty certain Jonas would not like: Stay.

There were times when working for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement felt just like being a secret agent.  His partner practically was a secret agent, or as close to it as one could get outside of a James Bond film -- Adon never talked very much about his days in the Israeli military, but Jonas had already concocted an imaginary career with Mossad, with plenty of secret undercover missions, counterinsurgency infiltrations, high-speed chases, and enemy ambushes, all conducted with a heavy Israeli accent that only seemed to make everything more exciting.

Of course, Adon only occasionally indulged him in his fantasies.  Getting his friend to teach him hand signals had been like pulling teeth, and it had taken days of arguing about how useful a secret language could be -- Hebrew didn't count as secret, Adon had protested, when millions of people knew how to speak it -- before he'd finally gotten to bring to life that aspect of his imaginary spy world. 

Today, though, was like the best of every spy movie brought to life.  The hurried message -- in reality, he was worried enough about Abby, but the sudden adrenaline rush of something urgent to do was as welcome a distraction as inventing Potter's resume for the Aurors had been.  Instant apparation to the scene of the crime.  Adon kicking in the door.  (Jonas had noted that he would have to do some research later to see which branch of the Israeli military condoned that sort of thing -- maybe it would prove key to uncovering his partner's sordid past.)  And finally, moving in like the SAS, with tactical hand signals galore as his friend slipped into full MI-5/Mossad/Seal Team Six mode.

Unfortunately, as soon as they encountered the three-headed enemy, all of his fantasies came to a crashing halt.

That was the hand signal that Jonas suddenly wished Adon had never thought to teach him.  Stay.  The red-haired Auror eyed his partner unhappily.  In the spy films, no one stayed; if they did, it was because they were the espionage version of a red shirt, about to get their face chewed off by bullets as soon as the enemy attacked them from behind.  He couldn't stay and be the next Jason Bourne!

Jonas clenched his jaw, looking near-mutinous for a moment, and then gave a grudging nod.  Whether he agreed with them or not, he knew the rules of the situation.  Adon was the lead.  He'd follow his calls.  Pulling his wand out, as if it could be used for anything other than poking someone's eye out, he stepped back against the wall, waiting for his partner to make his move.

Adon wasn't sure if it was the snake's heightened sense of smell--or that he'd been too loud--that unravelled everything.  Adon had no sooner taken pains to silently creep around the corner when he found himself looking into one large, lidless green eye.

Wand up, Adon threw himself backwards, flattening himself against the wall as the snake lunged for him.  One head hit heavily against the wall beside him before the lanky body surged downwards.

Adon's stomach gave a sickening turn.  "JONAS!" He barked, "JUMP THE RAIL!" A rough landing--even on a rough knee--would be better than coming nose to noses with a highly venomous Runespoor.  There was a barrage of guttural, crystalline syllables that could very easily have been either foreign spells or Hebrew curses.  He flicked a blast of orange towards the snake--which missed and sent splinters of a shattered bannister through the air. 

"Harah!" Casting a blast of green towards the stair, he just missed the tail, which lashed out angrily.  "Hold still!" One head swiveled to look accusatorially at him. Adon narrowed his eyes, wand poised between its eyes, and tried to catch a glimpse of his partner before doing any serious damage. "JON! Where the hell--"

Stay.  That had been the command.  He was not very happy about it, but he was still doing it.  With an expression that would have qualified as a glower if he'd seen it on anyone else, Jonas stayed pressed back against the wall, sullenly holding his ground as his partner rounded the corner.  This was one of the times when his partner's insistence on precautions didn't make any sense.  It didn't take a wand to deal with a giant snake; all it took was a large enough cosh and a sense of merciless impunity while beating it.

Though not technically planning to sulk, Jonas had been prepared to broodily bide his time, waiting for Adon to secure the scene so they could pull Abby out and glean any useful information from the situation.  What he hadn't been expecting was for his partner to suddenly throw himself backwards, shouting for Jonas to jump over the bannister just as he sent a curse flying that would have very possibly obliterated the red-haired Auror if he had tried.

Jonas gaped in the other Auror's direction, standing flat-footed.  A second later, the orange-and-black shape burst around the corner, moving far more quickly than any snake had a right to.  It took a split second to process the sudden change in the scene; by that point, the snake had reared up, one of its heads arching back as it turned to face the threat approaching in the form of the Israeli.

For once, Jonas didn't even think; he just stomped.

His heel came down hard on the snake's head.  Unfortunately, that was only one out of three.  The other two whirled around, and before the Auror could skip back out of the way, they had both lunged.  A stabbing pain like giant needles jolted his leg, and Jonas let out a word that was definitely not appropriate for polite company in a sudden, shocked yelp.

There was no time in events like this.  This struggle had turned into a disastrous list of simultaneities.  Adon’d cursed, he’d hexed, and the snake’d lunged in one instant.  And Jonas’ yelped, the snake’d struck, and Adon’d closed in the next.

Two heads—and several venomous fangs—were still clamped down on Jonas’ leg until the red-headed Auror’d relieved the pressure from the third head, which now hung limply from its juncture.  As soon as Jonas’d staggered back, the snake recoiled, muscles tensing visibly, ready to strike.

Adon silently slashed his wand through the air, ripping the snake away from Jonas.  Jerking his wand upward, five-feet of angry snake writhed and coiled in the air before the Auror flung the thing as far away from Jonas as he could get it: over the rail, and hurtling down to the level below. 

There was a heavy thud.  For Adon, each second nursed a growing frustration and anger with the creature. That it had bit Jonas. That it was not even intelligent.  And that, despite everything, it was still alive. 

Not for long.

Fingers curling around the banister, Adon hoisted himself over, landing heavily on his feet, damned if he'd lose his advantage. The snake was attempting a thrashing retreat. With a sneer, Adon leveled his wand.

”D’Makham!” A blaze of orange engulfed the snake.  Adon sneered at the sudden smell of burning flesh and turned away to ascend the stairs once more.  He didn’t wait to watch as the snake reared up, tossing its heads, before collapsing into ash.  Now taking the steps two-by-two Adon was halfway to Jonas, but could still hear a faint crackling-sizzling sound of the carpeting.

Adon cast a worried, harried look at his partner, bothering to bark “Don't move--Don’t elevate that thing!” as he passed.  No time for a response. The sooner they got the girl, the sooner to Mungo’s. Five more strides and he was once more atop the stairs, eyes grazing the hallway of doors on the second story. “Abby!” He yelled. For a moment, there was silence. “Abigail Reid!” he growled in frustration.

There was no time for this—as they spoke, acidic venom was coursing through Jonas’ veins, boiling his blood and melting—

A dog began to yelp.  The one to the right.  Adon stood before it a moment, listening before swiftly striking out with his foot and stepping through doorway, atop the felled door.  Adon easily sidestepped what looked like an overexcited ewok and moved towards the crouched, huddled figure in the barren room. “Abby--” he began, concerned.  The thought occurred to him that she, too, might have been injured. But that would change nothingin his plans. He held out his hand towards her and said in an urgent whisper, “It’s safe—but we have to hurry—come on!”

Abby listened with her ear to the door, clutching a heavy candlestick in her hands as Roxy the crup barked and yipped and ran around in alarmed circles. Lots of swearing, shouting, and blasting could be heard, only interrupted by a few seconds of ominous shuffling. She thought she heard her name once or twice, but the voice sounded angry. No one who knew her well called her Abigail.

Face paling, Abby scrambled back from the door and made futile shushing noises at the crup. What if the people in her house were not Aurors? The runespoor criminals could have arrived to finish her off!

When the door to the owlery crashed in, she tried to make herself as small as possible. She tensed, about to hop up and bean the intruder with the candlestick if one foot so much as inched towards Roxy, but it didn't. Red robes touched the top of his boots. And the face that stared down at her was the same face that gazed soulfully out of the pages of Witch Weekly, and he-- Adon Eleor!-- was offering her a hand up!

For a moment, Abby forgot all about the runespoor and let go of her weapon, wiping her palm on her skirt and then taking his hand. She stood on slightly shaky legs, but moved quickly, following his lead out into the hall where Jonas Trevelyan stood with a bloodied leg.

All the panic came rushing back, mixed with guilt.

"Trevelyan! Are you-" The crup ran past her legs and down the stairs. Abby's horrified expression turned alarmed again, and she shot an apologetic glance at Eleor, then ran after it, avoiding the splintered handrail.

"Roxy!" Abby whispered at the bottom of the stairs. "Roxy, come back! Now!"

The crup was hopping around the smoldering, twitching serpent in the corridor, then started sniffing at the remains. "Ew! Roxy! Stop it! It's dead already!"

It was, wasn't it? Abby stepped closer, but the crup trotted towards her after letting out a final, defiant bark. She scooped the crup up in her arms and hurried up the stairs, letting it into the room next to the owlery and closing the door.

"Sorry! Mungo's, right? I can come with, right?" Abby looked at Eleor hopefully, then glanced at Trevelyan. "You don't mind, do you?"

The pain in his shin was as intense as it was sudden.  Before he could react, or do more than instinctively stumble back out of the way, the snake had released its grip on him and reared back into the strike position, both heads hissing furiously.  Jonas had barely had time to process the situation when, just as suddenly, the creature was yanked backwards into the air and flung over the banister.

He had watched Adon cast magic like this before once -- just once -- but he had mostly been ducking behind an automobile at the time and trying not to get his head blasted off.  The magic wielded by the former Israeli soldier was harsh, brutal, and like nothing that he had ever seen at Hogwarts.  If it wasn't for the pain in his leg, now dull and throbbing even as the blood began to run down, Jonas would have continued to gape at the merciless display until well after the ashes had begun to drift away.

Jonas shook himself visibly as Adon began to ascend the stairs once more.  The violent spell-casting -- and the unsettled feeling that it was prompting -- was a discussion they could have another time.  Gritting his teeth in frustration, he braced his foot against the wall and grimly began to roll up the leg of his trousers to inspect the damage.

Runespoor bites were infamous for their severity.  Any exposure to the venom caused the skin to bubble and burn, raising red welts that quickly became open wounds and began oozing blue pus.  Jonas had heard stories of how much it hurt, like red-hot iron being poured into one's veins, and he'd seen the effects of even a limited exposure on Adon back in March.  But surprisingly, even as he exposed the wound, it looked nothing like he would have expected.  The pain had become a consistent dull throbbing, but it was no worse than he would have expected from any deep cut, and though the punctures were bleeding freely, his shin felt and looked perfectly normal -- there was nothing to suggest he'd even been exposed to the venom.

Jonas stood there, frowning as he watched the wound warily, as if he expected it to begin changing color any moment.  He was focused intently enough that he almost missed the return of Adon, Abby, and the dog.  The Auror blinked as he glanced up at them, his forehead creasing as he studied them for a moment.

"Naw, I don't think it's that bad."  Even though he'd answered Abby, the red-haired Auror looked to his partner, meeting and holding the younger man's gaze.  He kept his voice level and reassuring, enunciating each word calmly and carefully.  "It's not fizzing or bubbling, and there's no welts or anything.  Doesn't look like any venom got in." 

He managed a faint smile, still eyeing Adon for a beat longer, and then carefully dropped his gaze, tugging the trouser leg down again and pressing tightly against his shin with both hands to staunch the bleeding.  "Besides," Jonas added, affecting an easy and not entirely honest cheer as he nodded to the stairwell.  "Lost any clues that might have come along with the bloody snake once it caught fire, didn't we?  We ought to poke around a bit, see what else we can turn up.  That goddamned thing got in here somehow."

OOC: Warning. Predictable bad-language in here. (Adon + Angry.)

Adon nodded to everything Abby said--the apology, the dog, St. Mungo's--whatever it took to get them moving to medical attention as quickly as possible.

This break-neck momentum that Adon had sustained from the moment he'd received the owl came to a grinding halt as his partner nonchalantly shook his pant leg. "Naw, I don't think it's that bad." Adon froze with a locked jaw, feeling only the heavy breathing of his chest. Jonas was now looking calculatingly at him. Adon gave one disgusted shake of his head.

"...Wh--"

"It's not fizzing or bubbling, and there's no welts or anything.  Doesn't look like any venom got in."

Adon swallowed his response as he steadied his breathing.  He began to become cognizant of other things, besides Jonas' wound. Like his knees. Which ached. A lot. What could have--  Well, he supposed a first-story landing might have--

"Wait." Adon recalibrated, frustrated that Jonas had succeeded in throwing a wrench in this. Getting him to slow down and think, when they didn't have time to. You didn't vascilate in the middle of tough calls. You didn't have a discussion about it. You called in the medic, got the man-down stabilized, and took him in for further examination!  "Like hell! Venom doesn't just--not get in. Let me see," he hissed, anxiously. "Sit DOWN," he fussed forcefully as he closed in on his partner.  Leave it to Jonas. The man'd probably be missing several limbs and vital organs before he'd acknowledge anything to be more than "just a fleshwound, mate." 

Infuriating mamzer.  Jonas was just getting started on his parade of idle, situation-diffusing prattle.  Adon listened with narrowed eyes.  "Besides. Lost any clues that might have come along with the bloody snake once it caught fire, didn't we?  We ought to poke around a bit, see what else we can turn up.  That goddamned thing got in here somehow."

"Nim'as li! Stom ta'peh!" Adon barked, ending a broad, sweeping gesture with an angry, pointed finger towards Jonas' chest. "Stop talking goddamn it, and sit the hell down!"  Adon's brows knit as he frowned, attempting as best he could to hide any hurt that Adon's own partner had chosen now to rather ungratefully critique Adon's methods of dispensing with a snake that had very nearly killed him. Moloch.

"I'm sorry I wasn't thinking about the fucking evidence--I was a bit more concerned in keeping it from killing you!" he grumbled sorely as he knelt down on the steps beside Jonas, pulling the other Auror's hands away--and noting the blood had already seeped through the denim.  Venom's anti-coagulant nature had that effect, thinning the blood. Adon didn't doubt but that there was venom in there. "Sit down so I can assess it, Jonas." he repeated, utilizing the last utmost measure of reason and good manners. "Please."

There was no arguing with an irrational Israeli.  Adon had put as much force into the repeated command to sit as he ever had into their tactical symbols, and for once, the red-haired Auror knew better than to argue with his partner.  Jonas held his hands up in surrender, doing his best to keep his frustration from showing in his expression.  Fighting the younger man on this point was not going to get him very far.

It took a few moments of shifting to figure out the best way to lower himself to the ground.  Putting a hand on the wall behind him, Jonas braced himself and slowly crouched down to the floor, doing his best to keep his weight off his bad leg.  None of the movements felt natural; if he hadn't been clenching his jaw before, he certainly was by the time he finally managed to sit.

"A, I didn't mean it as a complaint," he replied tiredly, shifting uncomfortably to lean his back against the wall.  He straightened his leg so that his partner could examine the injury, doing his best not to grimace at the motion.  "You could have sent the whole bloody place up in smoke and I'd be whistling as I filled out the paperwork, so long as it kept me from a shallow grave."  He bit back a sigh, his tone relenting.  "I just meant that I'm fine, mate."

He really was fine, Jonas thought as he surveyed his body once more.  His knee ached, but that was completely within normal operating procedure.  All of the recent stress and action had meant more time spent on his feet, and the old wound had paid the price.  Other than that -- and aside from the blood that was dripping down his shin when Adon exposed the injury -- he felt fine.  His breathing was even.  His pulse felt normal.  Nothing seemed to be swelling or burning.  He'd seen how quickly the venom had worked on Adon when his partner had been stabbed with the poisoned dagger, and he'd read the reports of the other attacks.  Runespoor venom did not seem to have time delay properties.

The examination was going on far longer than was probably necessarily.  Biting back another sigh, Jonas leaned his head back against the wall, looking past his partner to the teenaged girl who was still hovering over them.

"You alright, then?" he asked her with a frown, trying to ignore any pain coming from his knee.  "What happened, Abby?  Going to lose the leg, am I?" he added tiredly to Adon, only realizing after the words had left his mouth that now was probably not the best time to test the younger man's sense of humor.

Abby stared at the bickering Aurors, startled (and impressed) by Eleor's creative swearing, and worried over Trevelyan, who had finally sat down and seemed well enough to talk. She ignored the crup whining for attention behind the guest room door, figuring that the last thing they needed was Roxy jumping on the injured Auror. Abby was quiet for once, disturbed by Trevelyan's brush with the snake and the sight of blood.

"I'm good! All my limbs are intact," She reassured Trevelyan a little too cheerfully. "Should I be getting something? Bandages? Water?" Abby started moving down the hall. "Are you sure you don't-" She cut herself off, then looked at Eleor. It was his call as to whether he dragged Trevelyan to Mungo's. Abby was used to adults making decisions without her input, in part because of her age and in part because of her squibness, but she wanted to help out somehow. Either by dragging Trevelyan or fetching supplies!

For now, she ignored Trevelyan's question about what happened, meaning to give them the full story once his injury seemed taken care of.

(OOC Note: Wasn't sure how much to assume! If they send her off, feel free to say that she returns carrying a huge box of supplies!)

Even on the brink of--well, he supposed this was near death--Jonas was prattling on as inanely as ever.  Unless this was shock--or dementia--sinking in.  At his talk of paperwork and shallow graves, Adon gave a derisive snort, leaning in to inspect the wound more closely.  With one hand, he gently cupped the back of Jonas' knee, for support. The other traced the perforations of the wound lightly.  The blood was just blood--it didn't seem thinner, it didn't seem to have a discharge; just the sort of blood you'd see from a laceration.

Adon grit his teeth. It didn't make sense. And that was far from relieving.

"What happened, Abby?  Going to lose the leg, am I?" Jonas intoned like some melodramatic soap opera. 

Adon's lips pressed into a thin, white line, and he gave a second, unhappy snort through his nose. 

Jonas had apparently been joined by another cheerful prattler.  But she, no doubt, would be more obedient.  At her questions, Adon said levelly and with no little authority, "A broomstick, and two scarves, if you have them.  Bandages--sure." The thought of closing off a wound that might have venom in it made Adon uncomfortable. As it was, the bleeding was not a severe threat.  Jonas didn't seem lightheaded--he certainly would have stopped talking, if he had.  The errand would keep her out of the way. Adon was half inclined to ask her to boil water.

"We've got to stabilize the leg before we get to Mungo's," Adon said, fishing into his pocket for his phone.  "What number do you call for a taxi?" he asked Jonas, scrolling through his eight contacts.

Jonas was beginning to notice a pattern in the conversation.  He had waited patiently, mouth firmly shut and gaze directed up toward the ceiling, as Adon examined his wound and barked out directions to Abby.

"A taxi?"  He squinted at the younger Auror.  "Adon, I'm --" 

Insisting that he was fine -- which he was, Jonas would have pointed out to anyone listening -- had yet to win out the heart or mind of his partner, no matter how he pressed the argument.  The red-haired man broke off mid-sentence, letting out a frustrated breath as he switched tactics.

"Look, me leg's not showing any signs or symptoms of Runespoor poisoning, innit?" he asked, keeping his voice as patient and reasonable  as he could.  He liked Adon; he really did.  The younger man was the most loyal friend he could have asked for, and despite his temper, he was normally charismatic and engaging to be around.  But once he got his mind set on what he thought was the proper course of action, he was easily the most pigheaded, stubborn person that Jonas had ever met.

"You want me to, A, I'll stay seated."  He was talking quickly now, the words coming out in a patter so that he could firmly make his point before Adon blew up and started shouting in Hebrew again.  "We can even ask someone to look at me leg later, if you think we really need to.  But let's just get done what we came here to do first, yeah?  Look around, see if there's anything else on sight that we should be grabbing.  And we probably shouldn't let the girl scamper about alone," he added, his forehead creasing, as he attempted to give his friend a concerned look.  "There's no reason they had to send only one snake."

Abby did indeed scamper around the house at a more hyper rate than normal, draping a dozen bandages over one shoulder, five scarves over the other, and holding one broom. As she moved around upstairs collecting things, she checked under a few beds and shut off her music, apparently sharing the same concern as Trevelyan about the possibility of more than one snake. She made it back to the corridor by the stairs in record time, and held out the broom to Auror Eleor like she was gifting him with an all powerful trident. It was her way of ignoring the tension!

"I've got silk scarves, wool scarves, and pretty scarves," Abby held out her arm. "Normal bandages, wider bandages, and Harry Potter lightning bolt bandages." The last part was said with a knowing tone of dorkiness.

Staring at Trevelyan's wound, she realized that it didn't look so bad, and that it could be a lot worse, especially if he'd gotten infected with runespoor venom. Still, seeing him injured scared her a a bit.

"You'll be ok," Abby smiled, glancing at Auror Eleor for reassurance, though he seemed the most concerned of them all.

"Look, me leg's not showing any signs or symptoms of Runespoor poisoning, innit?"

"Don't you think I know that? Moloch!" he said in a tense, muted voice, teeth grit as he rolled back onto his heels and released his hold on the leg . From his kneeling position, he glanced over his shoulder at Abby.

That was a lot of scarves.

"Thanks," he managed shortly, moving fluidly to his feet to inspect the offerings, which he declined with a shake of his head as she held them out to them. "Keep a hold of them. We'll need them in a moment." 

"You'll be okay," Abby cut in with a womanly coo to Jonas, then looked uncertainly at Adon, who was, apparently the only one with sense enough to try to emphasize that--despite appearances--this was not okay. Why was everyone so dogged on assuring Jonas--who was most certainly showing an abnormal reaction to a confirmed, venomous bite--that he was alright?

But Jonas was in an accomodating mood, and he was not going to lose sight of that.  Even if he was too much the investigator and too little the... soldier, sometimes.

"Jon--I do want you to stay seated until we can get you to Mungo's. Which will be as soon as the taxi arrives. If you remember, we came here to get the girl. Which we've done."  He glanced at the girl as he said this, frowning slightly. "You know how to make a splint with those?" he said, nodding towards the scarves and the broom.  He wasn't exactly sure he trusted her on that, but he was occupied at the moment, fishing into the deep pockets of his crimson robes, finally finding the small black flip phone, which he shook open with a crisp snap of his wrist.  "There's no assurance that the reaction isn't delayed.  You were bit by a Runespoor, which has a potentially lethal effect, you're reacting abnormally, and I will not be negligent about that. Now!" he said sharply, eyes firmly fixed on Jonas, "What do I dial?"

Jonas gave an audible sigh.  Adon ran a hand over his face, also heaving a sigh that sounded more like a growl.

"Damn it. Fine." Adon refused to sound defeated. It was much easier to fall upon his default angry tone.  "You want me to look around?"

There was a loud crack--Adon vanished, and there was the sound of footsteps from upstairs, where Abby had been hiding.  Another crack. Footsteps on the ground floor--the kitchen.  Another crack. Then another. From thin air at the top of the stairway, Adon returned, as surly as he'd left, cell phone open in hand. "Okay. Now what do I dial?"