Charles stood in front of the open door, Kaira's red boots clutched in one hand, his heart beating a bit faster than he'd like to admit.
The three guys in brown tunics glared at him from the hallway, the one in the center leading the charge.
The layer of earth blocking the door was still there, making shutting it and ignoring them impossible.
The air in the hallway felt heavy, charged with the kind of tension that comes before trouble, and Charles couldn't help thinking this was a waste of time.
The guy in the center, his face hardened with irritation, stepped forward and repeated his question with a sharper edge.
"I said, whose boots are those!" His voice echoed down the hall, his eyes boring into Charles like he wanted to drill through him.
Charles let out a long sigh, trying to stay calm.
'Great,' he thought sarcastically. 'Stuck arguing with a moron.'
He decided to say the first thing that came to mind, more reflex than strategy.
