"Good boy," Kakashi rasped, trying not to stagger with relief. Smoke, exhaustion, or just plain bad luck--whatever the reason, his attempt to lock the ninja into a sharingan-coma had won him nothing but a headache. And for a second there, as that ax had swung down...

He shook off the chill. Later there would be time to think. Now there was nothing to do but run.

A growl was all it took to call Shouma back; Kakashi's throat was too dry for whistling. Tail high and teeth dripping red, the shepherd cleared the space around them with just a look, sending workers scrambling to avoid coming too close. The corner of Kakashi's mouth twitched; more relief. He let Tsuyako slip off his shoulders, easing her down to the floor, and granted Ginta's wish by settling him on Shouma's strong back. The dog set himself square, determined not to falter under the lean shinobi's weight. "Hold on," Kakashi told Ginta, guiding his hands to wrap tight around Shouma's collar.

He dropped back down by Tsuyako, preparing to lift her up again, and found himself face to face with a second pair of loyal brown eyes. Wreathed in smoke, Hoshika lowered her muzzle and pressed her nose against Tsuyako's shredded shoulder, whining softly.

"No time," Kakashi snapped, rougher than he meant to, and hauled the woman up. Blood smeared him from wrists to shoulders, painting violent crimson streaks over heaving chest armour. He could smell it, but that was probably because his nose was bleeding; had been ever since his last agonizing sneeze. There was no time for that, either. "Move," he ordered.

Snarling, Shouma bounded forward, scattering unfortunate civillians. Kakashi lunged to keep up, holding Tsuyako tight to his chest. Hoshika pressed against his hip, ensuring he kept to a straight line.

And behind them, flames drew closer.