A day later and Jet's fever has decreased somewhat, but not quite enough to travel. It leaves them in a precarious position, the remains of the yellow house far too exposed for proper cover, though what's intact of the walls does offer some protection from sight at least. Despite that, they'd been attacked by dogs once already, Albert having had to lead them off while fighting. Three of them followed the cyborg and one went down eventually, falling prey to sharpened shovel and heavy crowbar. The German came out only a little worse for the wear, teeth scuffs on his metallic arms and a few tears in his pant legs. The other two had fled and left Albert and his charge for a few hours.

Of course, now they're back in numbers.

Technically it's lucky that they spotted the slight, dark-haired girl a few yards down the street instead of surrounding the house he's hiding Jet in until the blond is well enough to move. He could easily let them have her and hope they walked away sated. He very nearly does. It would be the logical thing, the safe thing. What the Capitol wants to see.

But it wouldn't be the right thing.

Shovel in hand and crowbar tucked into his belt, Albert circles around quietly behind one of the dogs growling and stalking the girl. They can't smell him; he has no scent really, nothing like a living person anyway given that all that's left of his organics is his brain and nervous system. He uses it to his advantage and strikes suddenly and powerfully, a sharp yelp the only thing that makes it out of the beast before the sharpened edge of Albert's shovel bites into its neck like an axe.

Suddenly the dark-haired girl doesn't have all of the attention.