Before they even turned to begin the journey into the all-consuming darkness, she reached out her fingers, still bloody from where she'd been chewing them unintentionally, and she laced them into his own. It was a quiet assurance, one accented by a gentle squeeze. No one would mess with Emilie down in the tunnels and, if they were too high to know better, they'd find their teeth down their throat.
Literally, on occasion.
Rodeo might not have been able to see in the dark, but Emilie could see just fine, and she moved quietly and intently through the winding passages without so much as a hiccup in her step. Anyone who hadn't spent over a year in the labyrinth would easily be lost for hours, days, forever with one wrong turn, but she knew the tunnels as well as she knew the back of her own hand.
All the while, she didn't let go of his fingers.
"No pitstops," she assured him, voice as soft as her leather-bound footsteps were over the damp concrete and steel. "No one's gonna bite the Big Dog. Won't let 'em."