Making his way through the forest back to Niflheim, Sal occasionally peered back at his comrade to be sure she was keeping up. Emerald didn't do so badly - for a woman. Usually, if Sal ever encountered females, either victims or witnesses, they were sniveling, pathetic creatures. It made the guilt that much less when he'd raised his guns to their temples and fired.
It seemed Emerald was content in carrying the bodies, enjoying her time, and even 'making friends'. It wasn't that Sal'd change his mind any time soon, but the idea of getting along did seem to be growing on him.
"Almost there," he grunted, shifting one of the bodies on his shoulder. There was a screech far back in the Bloodmire - the remaining corpses had obviously been upset. However, the pair of hunters sensed no approaching music and continued on their way. Sal even whistled as they made their way to the mansion.