Straightening again Somersby looked behind hil to make sure Ben was alright. He wasn't. Merlins Shittiest Pants! Somersby changed directions, holding his hands over his head to protect from all of it as he dashed for his best friend. It felt like forever before he reached Ben and when he finally did Somersby held like his forearms were a solid mix of bruises and burns. Ignoring his own pain he looped his arms under his unconscious friend and began to drag him, thumping over chucks on hail, in the direction the others had gone.