Mikey stumbled over a branch, or a mound, or something else lying haphazardly on the ground as they moved away. His legs were heavy and slow and he wanted nothing more than to be back in the Great Hall already, standing by the fire with other people around them and nothing chasing them dead-eyed and unflinching.
He looked back as he steadied himself and caught Spencer staring backwards, body stiff. Reaching out he curled a hand over his shoulder and squeezed. There were nothing to say so he just slid his hand down until it found Spencer's and gripped it tight, pulling.
It was all he could manage. The only instinct left was the one telling him to force his body to keep moving until his palms hit the cold weathered stone of the castle.