She sensed him without looking up, and honestly in the open expanse of the sidwalk this late at night, emptied by it's typical litter of passerbys, she could have avoided the situation.<br/><br/>She smelled the coffee, it sparking her senses, a particular favorite for too many decades. She smelled the gent, the linguring scent of his whereabouts, which always peaked an interest; he was clean, and a quick upward glance proved he had money. A subtle scent also emitted from him, one she could not place so quickly, at this moment it mattered not. Two objectives, and he was a prime target.<br/><br/>Against her wishes, her shadow began to writhe from it's position, quietly and without display simply pulling to her feet, tugging at the toe of her boot to stop her. They sensed more than she did at this moment, and they did not want her to proceed ahead. She owned them, manipulated with excellence, and quickly, without word, called them back to their original position. They did this within seconds, no one notices them usually, yet she still would become frustrated. They could give her away; so long she's fit in to the norm, and she will not have them ruin it.<br/><br/>Her throat clears as she manipulates her position, stepping forward without pause, and finds her left arm and shoulder connecting with the man's center torso. She gasps out loudly, left hand raising up to cover her face, her right hand quickly diving into his left jacket pocket, squealing as the hot liquid splashes onto her jacket and hands. The perfect setting, on a perfect night. She continues to react as she attempts to find a prize within his garment; she does not need to steal from others, a habit she picked up from the beginning when she did need to get by, and one that has not died with time. A thrill, mind you, and a dangerous one. Invading space, daring enough to take at times priceless objects or even trinkets, a feeling of power over those she was to protect too long ago. Those that failed her.<br/><br/>She would also dine this night, and well, she sensed. A wry smile passes her lips, head still down, face still covered, knowing she would be home soon in her sanctuary of warmth.<br/><br/>Her body shakes, she whimpers out, all part of the play; fingers finding something within his jacket pocket to wrap around as she whines out, 'dear Heaven what have you done?!'. This statement made, and hopefully accepted by the man, she quickly steps back, handful of treasure swiftly tucking into her own front pocket of her jeans, the other still covering her lowered face, coffee dripping from her jacket and hand.