The drunk Crowley pounces on is knocked unconsious by the force of the blow, and the rest take one look at the howling wolf and run.  The man lay on the ground, unmoving.  He appeared to be some sort of demon who was caught in the middle of a transformation, his skin leathery and large black wings protruding from his back but appearing otherwise normal.  Crowley took the man's shirt gently in his teeth and hauled him into protection of the alley.  It was all he could.  He raced away, heading for the river.  He didn't want to risk leading anyone to the caravan, and he might as well finish with the Ringmaster's orders.<br/><br/>---------------------------------<br/><br/>Nathan smiled.  This girl was distracted, spacey.  With a gentle probing of her mind he could see that she had seen someone, or had thought she had at least.  He had no real interest in this girl, but he also had nothing better to do, so he said, "You seem preoccupied, m'dear."