When impact seemed nearest Sansa felt her self preservation instinct flare into belated life, and she brought her hands in defensively -

- only to hear the grunt and crash of the Scourge in front of her, vibrations traveling through the floor into her body, but little else. Sansa's eyes flew open and she touched on her Celerity again, on top of the crate in a blink for what good it would do her. A Kindred was fighting the Gangrel, his body blurring with speed as he redirected blows. She felt a tug on her blood, a sort of sixth sense, and it confused her.

The warehouse to her back, however, was clearly full of Kindred and kine trading bullets and blows. The kine were holding their own for the most part. Hunters. She leapt down from her perch, the crate between her and Scourge, a bullet whispering through the ends of her hair as she landed in a crouch. The nearest kine immediately slashed at her with a knife that had an extended wooden handle, but she grabbed his arm and leveraged her body against his elbow, snapping it.

Exit, find the exit. She turned away from the kine she'd dropped on the floor, a nearly fatal mistake as he brought his gun up with his other hand. Sansa managed to react quickly enough to kick the gun away from him, and then stomped on his throat. Part of her was revolted, the other fascinated as he gurgled, but the power of her vitae would only last her a little while longer before she would need to feed and rest. Her eyes were drawn back to the dying kine, his heart faltering...

Sansa used her speed to return to Roland's side. Logically sticking with him was her safest bet, and she still needed his help. Running away would not get her his favor.