He had braced for the flurry of flailing hits that connected with his head. That was to be expected. So was the flurry of words that was screamed into his ear. He had a quip that he was ready to fire at Nightingale, more for his own amusement rather than her's. What he didn't expect was that she would slip off of the roof. He didn't resist her attempts to struggle once they got up that high, thinking it was alright, but apparently he was wrong.

Ater's initial impulse to try and grab her as she slid down, coupled with the sudden whizzing by of a few arrows near his face, he had momentarily lost his own balance, but he jumped down, still trying to catch the falling girl who was in that moment being shot by her own troops. Even when they were set to be allies, the NPCs in this game wanted every player dead no matter what situation.

The girl hit the floor before Ater could grab her out of the air. Anyone in the real world who fell that high would have been dead for sure. His only assurance that she was alright was the fact that she didn't burst into a billion pixel sparkles on impact. Ater's own landing wasn't so damaging as he landed on his feet, and as soon as he did, he rushed over to Nightingale.

She wasn't moving and that worried him. Surely that kind of impact didn't have the same effect as it had in the real world. Then again, this damned game was made to murder as many people as possible. "Hey! Are you alright? Here, drink this."

The berserker held up one of his spare potions to her lips (gently rolling her over if she was face down).