[ There are reasons, well, one reason he wanted to be down here without Chris seeing him, and he already took care of that. So it's a bit surprising for him to realize that when Chris is here again, he's still somehow relieved. Not that he was worried about being here, not that he was scared at all — in fact, it would be strategically more sound for Chris to still be outside in case they get ambushed or they accidentally trigger some kind of stupid trap that causes the vault to shut on both of them — but sometimes, things are easier to work through out loud, with someone else. Someone with Chris' experience and training.

He'd vaguely retraced what he remembers of his position that night already. Chris being here makes it easier, though, because all the bodies are in the wrong places relative to the memory and... Chris is (was?) a hunter, it just. Works. He crosses to the other end of a weapons rack (mostly empty, the weapons either missing or on the ground) and in front of a stark splotch of blood on the wall behind it. ]

Here...

[ And his hand comes up to the mostly healed wound on his stomach. His expression doesn't change. When he's older, it's such a terribly empty look, though perhaps Chris might never have seen it. At this age, you could mistake it for absent minded. Not fully present, if only for a moment, before he resumes speaking without even a blink to acknowledge that. ]

Grabbed something off here, stabbed him, then. Arrows? Happened? And someone knocked over a shelf going for the stairs...