Dale remembered falling, so he wasn't shocked when he woke up. He was scared, but not shocked. He had fallen, and it had felt like he had fallen for so long, hands above him reaching out, but there was nothing they could do. He had moved just that tiny little bit, and now he was in the dark, god knows where. Was he still in the house? had he fallen through?

He tried to stand up, his head hurting and his left arm feeling slightly crushed. Still, pain was something he had learnt to put to the back of his mind, and he needed to look for a way back up. He must have been out for a while, because his friends weren't up there. He thought about shouting, but loud noises could easily bring a whole horde out to him, and he had nothing to defend himself with. He was a good fighter, but he didn't trust his fists against a whole army.

Hopefully, if his friends weren't at the top, they were working their way down to get him. They had promised to not leave anyone behind, and he had saved them plenty of times now. There was no way they could say he wasn't dedicated to the group, so they should come and get him. He flicked his dark hair out his eyes and started looking at where he should be going. His eyes had adjusted a little, and he could see the outline of something, a door perhaps? He took a few steps closer to see before hearing a loud wail, which caused him to freeze. He hadn't seen the figure near the door, crumbled up in the dark, looking just like something that had been knocked over at first glance. His eyes were fixed, and he was afraid to move.