Nate stopped dead, head turning as he eyed the two figures making their way in the same direction he was. This wouldn't bother him usually. In fact people didn't tend to bother him the slightest. But, as he watched them, his dread was rising. The wind blew at his back now. And it carried a noise. It was quiet at first, barely there for him to hear. But it rose and a bolt of cold shot down his spine. He turned, eyeing the woods at the very far end of the cemetery.

Movement. Movement in the trees. It was there. His dread devolved, dissolving into straight terror. And he turned and he ran. He didn't know in which direction he was running. All he knew was that he needed to get away. And he would. He needed to. He didn't even seem to car when he tore past the two closest to the gate, didn't even care that he had slammed into one from behind. He stumbled a bit before slamming to the ground. He sat there for a moment, panting loudly and raggedly. Panic was clouding his mind.

He scrambled to his feet and, glancing back at the woods one last time, ignoring the two who had been present in the graveyard with him, he slammed open the gate and ran. He didn't know how far or how long he had run. All he knew now, as he sat panting and heaving, was that he was on the steps to some church or another. Probably the only one in town. He wasn't really one to keep track of such things. He didn't know he had practically just run down the street to the church at the far end. He leaned back, practically draped across the steps as his chest heaved and his breath came out in wet gasps. He would just...rest here a bit. Get his breath back. Yeah. Then he'd find that party or something. No way he was going home tonight.