Early October air, recovering from the sun, chilled in his lungs, his heart battered against his ribs like a baby bird trapped in a cage, each muscle was starting to ache with tension and heavy with the promise to pay him back in the morning.<br/><br/>A stern voice in the back of his head made its presence known,<span style="font-style: italic">Donâ€™t go yalla bellied on us, boy</span>it growled, thick with warning and it wasnâ€™t alone in its battle against his survival instincts. Ego was there too, rooting for it from the back benches of his personality.<br/>Marlowe was a finicky creature, entirely selfish to boot. A short year after moving out this way heâ€™d claimed the city, THIS was his territory, his space, his neon lit, fume powered boudoir and not a soul alive was going to take it from him. More to the point whilst all of these darling streets were cooped up in the leisurely domain of his custody (and you could draw a clear circle of that neighbourhood on a map, each urban mage claimed their spaces like Tom cats on the prowl) they were to remain under HIS control. Everything should run smoothly, it all HAD be in order. That was his job. The price he paid for having such a relaxed personality was that he had to make up for it in the arrangement of his material goods, his room was ordered, bookshelves arranged alphabetically, medicine cabinet by the colour of the labels and this borough of the City was to be maintained like the finely tuned machine it was. To chase loose ends of the ebb and flow of the great urban spirit here and tie â€˜em back into place; that was his life.<br/><br/>And whatever this crater wasâ€¦ whatever had made itâ€¦ they were disrupting that all important flow. It set every fibre of his being at odds.<br/><br/>But he was by no means brave. A brave man wouldnâ€™t have spent his youth seeking solace and acceptance in gangs the way Marlowe had. A brave man would have struck out on his own and stood for what was right. Marlowe knew he had too many regrets to ever be called brave and his nervousness at the very moment was further testament to that.<br/><br/>For a moment he stood there, tall, gangly and awkward, breeze flicking at his oversized jumper and stray strands of Germanic hair as though it were bored of him and waiting for him to get his arse in gear already. The raw untethered magic was burning blisters into his hands as it stood on hold with nowhere to go, nothing to complete its circuit. Naturally it had started eating into its host, but he was beyond noticing.  Too caught up in an internal battle of wills.<br/><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Donâ€™t go yella on us, </span>the voice of his ego repeated,<span style="font-style: italic">Hold yourself together man! Youâ€™ve dealt with the vampire mafia for fuck sake!</span><br/><br/>He winced, glanced back over his shoulder, wondering if he should call in the big guns for back up, this really wasnâ€™t his problem, more something to be handled by the boys in blueâ€¦<br/><span style="font-style: italic">I dealt with them WITH A GUIDE and a familiar. Thatâ€™s different. I had more firepower than NASA on launch day! </span>his inner chicken whined in reply.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Doesnâ€™t matter nuffin!</span>it snapped back. He fidgeted with his sleeve, biding time.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Matters <span style="font-weight: bold">something</span> alright! Whatever this is itâ€™s â€¦ it doesnâ€™t feel human.</span><br/>True enough.<br/>He could pick up on auras in the air, like noticing a new scent and, although it was muddled up amongst all the wild, chaotic vibes of the city, like someone walking into a crowded party with perfume on, it was there, gentle, smooth and flittering, a pulse under the fur of a rabbits chest.<br/>Humanity came with more of a rattle in a paint can feel.<br/><span style="font-style: italic">Doesnâ€™t FEEL like anything weâ€™ve ever come across. Shit. I canâ€™t do this, man! I donâ€™t DO new things!<br/><br/>What are you on about, you moot! You ate snake at that Thai place didnâ€™t you?!</span><br/><br/>No arguing with thatâ€¦<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">FINE.</span><br/><br/>No noise from there other than the distant hum of traffic and rustle of wildlife in the bushes. Hopefully nothing was alive. He approached carefully, slowly, taking long, calculated strides, eyes straining, trained at the dirt walled edge of the small abyss, waiting for whatever horror lurching on the other side of its raised rim to dawn into view.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Like enlightenment unto Buddahâ€¦<br/><br/>Fuck off you!</span><br/><br/>For a moment he thought he might be seeing things and waited for his eyes to refocus in the dark. A gasp escaped him and all the tension heâ€™d been building up inside wooshed out, his shoulders dropped, baby blues widened like car headlights, â€œUhâ€¦â€<br/><br/>It wasâ€¦ a girl? She was dainty. Tiny rounded shoulders, hair the colour of a robins back and long, but slender legs, bambi legs all folded over one another in collapse. Her skin was milky smooth, but freckled with dark soil andâ€¦ blood.<br/>For a moment he almost convinced himself that she had landed in a snow drift, his brain couldnâ€™t make sense of any of the white mess around her and then it all came together. Feathers! It was like someone had shredded several pillows worth around her! And they werenâ€™t just confined to the hole. One flittered past his ankle, caught up in a trill of wind. They were marked though. Rubies of congealing blood swam across their glossy coat.<br/>She was hurt.<br/>Bad.<br/>And she was awake. Eyes open, tiny body trembling with the effort to move.<br/><br/>Initial shock shattered, something kicked him into action, whatever magic heâ€™d been saving cracked free with a spark and vanished into the air, but it wasnâ€™t worth paying any mind to, â€œDonâ€™t move!â€ he barked, hurrying over, adrenaline ushered in a weird kind of mothering instinct, â€œYou might have broken something! Moving is only gonnaâ€¦â€<br/>Shit! He knew absolutely NOTHING medical! Served him right for not specializing in healing when he had the chance!<br/>â€œâ€”well itâ€™s only gonna make things worse!â€ yeah, heâ€™d seen enough episodes of House and Doctor dramas to pick that one up. They were based on SOME kind of research right?! Fuck!<br/><br/>He skidded to a stop next to her, dropping to his knees, â€œWhat happened? Whereâ€™s it hurt?!â€