Wyl ran. Long legged strides took him quickly from one side of Elenburg to the other, shouts of fury left in his wake as he wove through the alleyways and muddy streets. He tucked the precious piece of paper inside his jerkin. The same precious piece of paper that he had just liberated from Crast the self-styled lord of the Elenburgh underworld. The same precious piece of paper that said Crast was now hunting, although he probably wouldn’t be averse to getting his hands on the person who stole it either.<br/><br/>Wyl yelped as he ducked under a sudden sword swing, the blade biting into the wooden wall of the closest building and getting stuck. Crast’s underling tried to pull it free. “Stand still so that I can kill you, you bloody bastard!”<br/><br/>“No, thank you!” Wyl muttered. He was already several streets away. He heard the baying of dogs and cursed up a silent storm. That was very much not good and he needed to get to a safe space as soon as possible. Since no one in Elenburgh was stupid enough to get on Crast’s bad side that more or less negated any and all homes and houses. But there was a small dilapidated shack some streets away, between the market place and the residential area. It might be useful.<br/><br/>The baying came closer, barely a street away, and Wyl picked up his feet.<br/><br/>It would do quite nicely, the little stall.<br/><br/>Except when he got there, the stall suddenly seemed far too obvious. The pile of planks and boards next to it, however, seemed perfect. Wyl didn’t hesitate and slithered inside quick as a snake. Only to blink in surprise at the sight that met him.<br/><br/>“Well, tally bally ho, didn’t expect anyone else in here. Don’t go getting’ your… whatever passes for underwear in a twist, love. I’m just here for a tiny little while, savvy?” Wyl whispered to the other and squeezed himself further into the little shelter, taking up the other corner of it.<br/><br/>Dogs were barking outside. Not the weird-looking, little tea-cup sized fluff-muffins that rich women preferred these days. No. These were vicious, enormous hunting dogs. They were bred for one thing only, and they were damn good at it as well. Everything about them was honed for the hunt, and they always hunted in groups. That meant that there would be dogs with different specialisations as well, and all in the same pack. They were truly a joy to work with.  Not.<br/><br/>Wyl pulled out a small pouch and pulled out a handful of the powder inside. It was a mix of crushed leaves and different scents, and Wyl had added a bit of several drugs to it, too. It wasn’t enough to harm the dogs or make them very woozy, but it was enough to make them go away long enough for him to disappear.<br/><br/>“Now, darlin’, I’d recommend holdin’ your breath for as long as possible.” He grinned to the other before opening his palm and blowing. The gust of breath sent the powder mix flying towards the entrance to coat the boards and leaves and grass. It was quickly lost in the darkness and Wyl shuffled into a more comfortable position and settled in to wait.<br/><br/>He played with a throwing knife, ready to use it if the powder didn’t work, or if the dogs sniffed him out from some other direction. Though – he cast a quick look at his unwitting companion – with the way this poor critter smelled it would take a miracle for Wyl to keep his own sense of smell, let alone having mere dogs sniff them out.<br/><br/>There was sniffing and snorting right outside, and Wyl froze up. The throwing knife – thin, sleek, black and needle-shaped – stilled in his hands. He was hardly breathing where he crouched, eyes focused on the front entrance, and ears focused on the noises all around. More and more dogs were shuffling up to the tiny shelter, leaves rustling as they walked around.<br/><br/>“The dogs’ve found the bastard’s trail!” Crast’s voice thundered from nearby. “I want every inch of this place searched! He ain’t getting away this time!”<br/><br/>Wyl grimaced, tensing as a snout became visible through the foliage. It sniffed once, twice, and then snorted and snorted again. Pulling back the dog started whining as it shuffled about and tried to rub its nose free of powders. Two more dogs arrived and sniffed around curiously, but suffered the same fates.<br/><br/>“Ach, it’s a decoy.” Someone said. “Ain’t no way the bastard ain’t already halfway to the next town. He’d be stupid to stay around after all that. Let’s get goin’ before whatever he put there totally ruins the dogs’ sense of smell.”<br/><br/>“I’m not lettin’ that bastard get away with my map! Get goin’!” Crast boomed. There was rustling foliage and baying dogs as they moved on.<br/><br/>Wyl waited for a few heartbeats more before he relaxed and turned to his companion. “Well, that went well, ey love? I’d recommend gettin’ outta here quickly though. Won’t be very safe for much longer if you catch my drift.” He shuffled back to the exit and carefully peeked out, holding his breath in order not to breathe in his own powder-concoction. “Looks clear, darlin’. Hey, since you were such a good buddy to shack up with, how’s about I treat you to a meal as thanks?”