He reckons he should've thought to bring a torch with him. Other than that, he's fairly oblivious to any possible trouble. His mind is more occupied with her, for obvious reasons.

So maybe he wanders around a bit before setting to taking his shirt off. It's hard to avoid the fact they're going to be spending the next few nights alone together, and if she's going to come over all...like she just was, it's going to be hard.

Difficult. It's going to be difficult.

He's washing the soap off when he hears it. A sound that everyone knows, no matter where they're from; an unmistakable rattle that is really close by.

'...shit.'

His gun is back by the fire, and it wouldn't be a lot of use if he had it, seeing as he can hardly see a damn thing. His hand gropes for his shirt on the ground, jerking back as it brushes something - a rock? Maybe. Maybe not.

And there it is again. It sounds closer, and he hasn't got a clue if legging it will make it more likely to attack, or if that's all it'll take.

'Kate?'