It should have been a simple case of deja vu, waking under the earth, mottled light filtering through the entrance... but it was wrong, all wrong, and instead of warm and safe, he had to fight a lingering sense of dread in the pit of his stomach. The cold tendrils of fear were clawing their way into his throat and choking him. Why hadn't anyone noticed yet? Where was his mother? His father? His sister? Sure it wasn't strange for the boy to wander off but surely by now it was evident that something was off, wrong. Maybe, they were all still too busy looking for Nash? What if this was what happened to him too?

The boy stretched his lanky, creamy limbs, wincing at the pain that twisted like a knife in his shoulder. He should have just gone along without a fuss, but would he still be alive if he had? His lips pursed together while he fought back a worried sound in the back of his throat, deciding instead it would be better to face the devil with defiance, allowing his lips to pull back as a shadow moved past the entrance of the former pack den. He wasn't dead yet and Ro knew it, but the boy confirmed it now with a growl.

He tried to think of what his mother might tell him to do in a situation like this. He very much doubted it'd be something like, Keep your head down, or maybe it would because if the older wolf grabbed a hold of his throat he was done for. He kinda wished he had been a bit more insistent on asking his parents to teach him to fight, instead of just being content to play with his sister. Maybe, if he managed to survive this, he'd be a bit more outspoken about it.

Roland's words cut into the back of his brain, he wasn't really interested in making a difference right now, the adrenalin that was building in his system left a stone at the back of his throat, and hell, he wasn't gonna cry, not in front of this guy. He just had to figure out a way to get out of all of this alive, and there was no back passage out of this hole in the ground, and a much larger, older wolf was blocking the only exit.

Trying to think of all the prey that had escaped him, his memory was called to a rat, that he thought had been well and truly cornered. A bitter smirk twisted at his lips, oh how the tables had turned. He was too tall now to effectively streak through Roland's legs, but maybe if he aimed low enough he'd be able to scramble free? Urgh, he was probably gonna get bitten again, but this was his only shot.

Clenching his jaw, the boy took a deep breath and leaned back. Be quick, be quick, you don't have to be strong, just faster than him... A challenge, to be sure, with his shorter legs and less of a chance to build up any real stamina, but fighting wouldn't increase his chances of survival. His only real hope was flight.

Elwood tucked his head low, kept his legs bent, and blindly charged towards the legs that were in the way of freedom, hoping beyond hope, that he would be able to force his way out between them.