[Envy's been catching glimpses of little black figures, of eyes, of grinning teeth, out of the corners of his vision for days. He's seen the Gate in other nightmares, both his own and those of others.]
[But when Wrath practically bowls him over in the trees, when Envy catches hold of him with a startled shout and looks up, at what he'd been running from?]
[Every hair on the back of his neck still goes up, and it feels like his stomach is flooded with ice.]
[None of them have ever been able to get away from it, but Wrath most of all. His grip on the young homunculus turns protective, guarding. If only because it feels like he's rooted to the spot.]
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[But when Wrath practically bowls him over in the trees, when Envy catches hold of him with a startled shout and looks up, at what he'd been running from?]
[Every hair on the back of his neck still goes up, and it feels like his stomach is flooded with ice.]
[None of them have ever been able to get away from it, but Wrath most of all. His grip on the young homunculus turns protective, guarding. If only because it feels like he's rooted to the spot.]
Wrath--Wrath! I'm here!