Talk about a crazy name. R doubts he can manage without mangling it to pieces.

Luckily the ground giving away underneath their feet saves him the trouble.

R doesn't think to try to grab onto anything, the zombie pitched into the chasm right after Atticus. The sun flashes once as he tumbles head over heels and then it's gone. Darkness and white and snow. The next thing he knows, he's landing with thud and his arm twisted the wrong direction like it's trying to do a halfway decent pretzel impression. R gathers himself up, his head popping out of the snowdrift as he tries to figure out where they are now. Down, obviously. At least it's not as blinding in here as it was out there.

"At - Atti," R cuts himself off, frustrated. Living and their names! He makes a real effort not to groan it out like he wants to. "At-ticus?"

The zombie starts to get up, oblivious to his bones shifting or the broken arm kinda just flopping at his side. If Atticus was freshly killed in the fall, R thinks he's fair game at that point. He strikes R as a nice enough guy. Seems a bummer to kill him right off the bat.