Gavin rarely sat still well, so he had somehow managed to crawl up a burnt, angled pole of what had probably once been the gate - crouching on the top of it like a strange, gangly gargoyle, an arrow notched in his bow but not drawn as he watched the rift. He was humming to himself (because what else was there to do) - something that drifted between a few different songs, of a few different peoples - when suddenly the rift sprang to life.

"Demons!" He snapped - standing up suddenly, making the pole wobble slightly below him. The first arrow was off almost in the same breath, slamming into the first shade that appeared. He was already drawing another, a half a breath later.