"In more ways then one.."
Xaver glared down at him, the dark blues of his gaze in currents of turmoil, caught somewhere between disgust and sympathy.
He didn't know what to make of the man Sirius Black, and less, what do do with him.
Or do about him.
He'd just began to word a retort, when he heard it.
The loud, overbearing, familiar crack that pulsed through the snow-heavy air, and whirred toward them.
Xaver jerked to the side, and a bullet ricocheted from the spot he'd stood not a heartbeat before. Cursing darkly, he bent, and grabbed Sirius by the back of his collar, dragging him after him with little mercy toward the corner of the nearest building. Bullets were whizzing around them, then - and they weren't only aimed for his head. Eyes widening slightly, Xaver moved quicker.
They, whoever they were, were aiming as much for Sirius, as they were for his own creature.
Something hit him, then, with enough force to spin him around, and with a hoarse, low scream, Xaver hit the ground hard enough to bring stars across his line of vision. The plowed cement was cold and unforgiving beneath him, littered with fresh snow. He sucked in the breath that had been roughly forced from his lungs, and groaned as his lungs burned. He dug his fingers into the pavement and drug himself upward, the world spinning around him, far too wavy to be normal, and all sense of sound eerily pitchy. His arms and legs worked, he learned, as he quickly gathered himself, but his left wing ached enough to keep him at his knees.
Another bullet struck the ground, just next to him, and he looked around, wildly.
They were close to the building.
So close.
Xaver grabbed at Sirius, and with more effort than he knew he'd posessed, he hauled him with him, dropping him after they'd rounding the corner, and tumbling to the ground.
Safety...
Even if it was only temporary, they were safe... Enough to gather themselves, to get out of there..
Suddenly, his cheek was flush with the ground, which was far hotter than it should have been.
Safety...?