Scarlet Carson walked down the street quickly. There was no one else around, which, ordinarily wouldn't bother her... But it was getting dark, and a slight drizzle was starting to coat the cobbled alleyways with a shining, slightly slippery residue that came from years of grime and disuse. Scarlet shivered slightly, pulling the heavy, knee length trench coat tighter around her small frame. Maybe it was the weather, maybe her own paranoia, or perhaps even a sixth sense that told the young demon that something was going to happen. Whether it was bad or good was yet to be determined; Scarlet never was one for such labels. She shook her rapidly dampening hair out of her crimson eyes, inadvertently glancing around her surroundings. Scarlet froze momentarily; was that a pair of eyes she'd seen in the shadows a moment ago? She stared at the area in question, suspicious accusation etched on every sharp feature. And yet, there was nothing there. Sighing her frustration, Scarlet resumed her walk. As she did so, the rain, which had started a soft drizzle, was steadying into a heavy down pour.<br/>She was drenched at this point, and slightly cold- an odd happening for a demon. Perhaps she was coming down with something? Just because she was a demon gifted with extreme longevity, it did not mean that she was immortal... Much less that she was invulnerable to the elements. Scarlet sighed her agitation. If there was one thing she hated, it was being cold. It slowed her down. Sometimes, she hated being part reptile; it made functioning in winter quite a challenge. Shivering inadvertently, the nineteen-year-old demon hunched her thin shoulders and tried to quicken her pace. For some reason, Scarlet couldn't seem to shake the feeling that she was being followed. An unfamiliar and equally unwelcome prickle of fear had lodged itself in her chest. She shook her head disdainfully, what kind of shadow demon was afraid of the dark? Growling softly under her breath, she slipped her hands back into her pockets after shoving her dripping locks out of her eyes. Not paying attention, her usually sure feet began to slip in the mud that was forming due to the lack of stone. She was out of the dingy suburbs, and almost home. Taking a moment to catch her balance, Scarlet chanced another glance behind her. Her eyes saw nothing, but her heart spoke differently. She could definitely... well, almost definitely feel another presence out there.<br/>"Bah," she muttered to herself, "I'm just getting paranoid." She turned back around and, with her nose slightly in the air, continued on her way.<br/>Her cabin, rented from some old lunatic who'd never come back to collect rent, was a good half mile off the path and concealed almost too well with ever thickening brush. Usually, this wouldn't bother Scarlet, who liked her privacy overmuch, but now she was half wishing it was closer, just so she could get out of the cold. The weeds and grass came up to her waist now, a good indication that she was close to home. The windows were dark, and covered with slippery grime, but it was home to Scarlet. Inserting the ancient key into the lock, she pushed the door open. It wasn't much warmer in here than it was outside, but it was dry, and there was wood waiting in the fire place. Scarlet brought the small sitting room into sharper focus as she lit an old fashioned gas lamp. She'd never been fond of electricity; too bright. Hanging the lamp back on its hook above the fireplace, she knelt and lit the dry timber that would restore her mobility to her. How she hated the cold! Really, she needed to find a nice, warm place in the tropics, where she wouldn't have to worry about randomly falling comatose...<br/>She had a fire blazing now, and stood again, eager to get out of her wet clothes and something in her complaining stomach. She reached again for the lamp and made her way up a suspicious looking set of stairs. At the end of the narrow hall was her bedroom, decorated sparsely with what few things she had. The pitiful sight always earned a sigh from the sometimes sentimental demon. For years now, she had wished for a companion of some sort. However... Demons like her had a bad reputation, and that had made her slow to trust. She loved solitude, but sometimes became lonely. It was then that she went on those long walks, like she had this evening, despite the warnings in the sky. Now she was cold, wet, and just as lonely. Shaking her head somewhat miserably, she shrugged off her wet garments and dried off, then pulled on a garnet colored night shift, made of heavy velvet. It was warm and soft, which had been the determining factors that led her to buy it in her travels. It was loose on her thin frame, but still warm and comfortable, and not quite long enough to trip her up on her way back down the stairs. She gathered up her wet clothes and headed into the bathroom, where she hung them on the shower curtain rod above the tub to dry. As an after thought, she grabbed a towel and began drying her hair as she came back into the sitting room. Denying her weary feet relief for a little longer, she bypassed the large, moth-eaten rocking chair and went into the kitchen instead. She set the lamp on the table, and lit the one designated for this room. Scarlet rubbed her cold nose, wondering what she wanted to eat. Unable to decide, she merely began to warm milk for hot chocolate while munching on a stale, crusty piece of bread. Stirring a little extra sugar into her cocoa, she gathered up her mug and the other lamp in her slender hands, holding another piece of bread between her teeth. Setting her mug down on the small table beside her chair, Scarlet replaced the lamp on its hook. Done with her "chores," she sank into her chair with a soft sigh. Warmth was spreading back through her extremities, helped along by the fire and the cocoa. She sipped it leisurely, finishing her bread. Even though she was home, she still had that uncomfortable feeling that she was being watched... On a whim, she went back into the bathroom and removed her dagger from her belt, stowing it beneath her shift. One could never be too careful... She leaned back into the cushion of her chair and began to doze of, not realizing that she had forgotten entirely to lock the door behind her.