We're doomed. We are utterly, irrevocably doomed. They've cornered us and now were doomed.
Thoughts whirred around inside Ara's mind, confused, terrified thoughts that spoke only of defeat, pain and misery. The attack on the basement had failed, and now here they were, cowering in the kitchen, beset from all sides by angry Shadows.
And, what was worse, those he had long ago presumed dead were re-appearing in front of his eyes. He didn't dare approach them, didn't dare try to talk to them. He couldn't even manage to look at them.
They were doomed, and the last thing he'd see were the ghosts of his old friends looking at him accusingly.
He'd never meant it to end like this.
He couldn't let it end like this.
Pulling away from Flamara, Ara started stalking around the room, occasionally emmiting a low whine. He had to think of something to get them out of this mess, and fast. Before he had to lose any more friends to the Shadows.
Ara suddenly found himself strangely calm. Fighting was something he knew how to do.
Right. Barricades. If they even wanted a hope of stayin alive, they'd have to keep the monsters advancing on them out.
"Everyone, we have to start barricading the door. It won't hold them off forever but it will give us some time. We need a way out of here, fast!"
With that, Ara began shoving anything he could reach against the kitchen door, mind working furiously as he did so.
We need to distract them somehow, divert their attention long enough for us to find a more defensible position. Or, better yet, escape altogether.
Not that that's ever going to happen at this rate.