<blockquote class="bbCodeBlock bbCodeBlock--expandable bbCodeBlock--quote js-expandWatch" data-attributes="member: 1482" data-quote="Ulrik Olafsson" data-source="post: 50802">
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<a class="bbCodeBlock-sourceJump" data-content-selector="#post-50802" data-xf-click="attribution" href="/goto/post?id=50802" rel="nofollow">Ulrik Olafsson said:</a>
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			Ulrik gripped his fist tight angry at himself for stepping on the rusted pipe that rolled off into the clutter knocking over the small trash heap.  The sound echoed against the surrounding buildings.  He stood still then moved his bulky body deep into the shadows and away from the small window.  He saw her small frame respond to the noise.  He hoped that she would assume that is was some small vermin moving about.  He stayed as silent as stone hoping that would assure her that there was nothing to fear.  Moments passed and he shifted his weight on one foot to the other.  His stomach growled loudly, he winced as the grumble came and went.  He moved from the shadow wth the crow bar gripped tightly in his hand.  He approached the door..
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</blockquote><br/>Dorothy heard more sounds again -- this time a grumbling sound, like an animal defensive against a threat. She bolted upright again, no longer able to ignore whatever had roused her in the first place. If there was something outside there that was afraid, well, she ought to be afraid, too. She reached under her pillow and withdrew her knife, a long balisong with a black handle. She stood up and listened intently, hoping the grumble and growl would resolve to a whine, like a dog play-fighting. But it didn't. The single closet in her room was perfect for this occasion... She tucked herself in carefully and tried to breathe as silently as possible, waiting for the next sound.