[ The feeling hasn't bothered Siffrin too much thus far, partially because of their own... numbness to many things, at this point, and partially because they've known better than to get too close to a threat they can't see -- like an animal, instinctively giving humans a wide berth until invited closer. But it does scratch at him now, tense and blanketing their senses with a heightened awareness.

(There's so, so many. You don't mind that.)

His left hand is thankfully hidden beneath his mud, blood splattered cloak, but anyone who's seen Siffrin knows it's the hand he prefers -- the right carries a knife this time, and a soft huff expels at the situation. ]

... They're just gonna keep coming if we don't shut-- or destroy, that gate, right? So... why don't we split responsibilities?