On a scale of 1 to stepping on a lego

Like the hounds of hell themselves were on the round boys heels, he pushed. He ran and he ran. Ran so far and fast that he had vomited all over himself. It hadn't slowed him down though, wasn't safe. What if they saw? What if they knew? What if he was next. The last sight he'd seen after his dad hit the ground was wolves moving towards him, he was right, wasn't he? Dad had gone completely limp. He was dead. Deaddeaddead, and Ken would be too if he didn't find his mother.

Running on instinct and adrenalin, his nose hardly engaged as nails scraped across stone floors. Shoulder to a solid wall more than once but he didn't feel it. Big door and a sideways slide, hips meeting stone as he failed to slow himself down. Wide golden eyes finally fell on his mother, only his mother. The boy scrambled forward wildly paws outstretched and seeking, whites of his eyes showing the terror that coursed through his veins. "He's dead, mum, dead, they killed 'im!" The boy sobbed, choking on his words, choking on his tears, his breath. "There'resomany an' they killed him. Dad's gone! He's not coming back cos they killed him an' I couldn't stop it! Too many, toomanyatonce. 'ewasallalone!"

"speech"