Gabe had been doing fine with the stairs, fuck you very much Wentz, but he'd also been so busy grinning happily and proudly in William's direction that he just about winded himself on Pete's outstretched arm. (He brushed against the railing, catching his breath, and it fell over, more ash than wood. Whoops.)
Right, focus. There'd be time later for... well, Gabe had a few ideas for what, but there'd be time later to think about those too. When every single little fucking elf had been--
Gabe blinked, watched Pete stomp a trio of suddenly even-more-miniature zombies, and mentally corrected whatever he'd been going to think into squashed. "You little genius," he declared, only a bit louder than he might otherwise have, and stepped up beside Pete, wand out and shrinking spells flying as they marched crunchily (and not a little gleefully) towards the doors.