Dale had read about the execution in the paper and had immediately panic set in, his mouth drying up and his hands shaking. He read the small article again, making sure he'd read it right and that it wasn't just his dyslexia malforming the words.
He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, reading the words over and over, just that the feeling of nausea increased until he needed to get out and do something. Go somewhere. Running didn't exhaust him as he hoped it would; if anything his senses were hyped up and his brain was running at a million miles an hour. He'd been to Jennifer Burke's when Ronan had been there, knew that his friend had worked there, and yet he couldn't go and ask him the details. It felt too wrong to probe.
Grabbing his jacket before he could change his mind, he Apparated to Patrick's and looked around for the other man, eyes wild with a mixture of fear and anger. "They killed a werewolf," he said, showing Patrick the evening paper. "They- That could have been me."