The thief was quick on his feet, but not quick enough that the athletic Duchess couldn't catch sight of him even in the dark alleyway. The sun was still shining overhead, after all, casting some light on the passage, and he turned a corner - then another, then another, winding his way through the city's streets like the street rat he was. Yet a quick glance over his shoulder and he knew he'd misjudged his prey - she was<i>still </i>chasing him, still swift on his tail, like a fox chasing a rabbit rather than a fancy goose strutting its flippers on land.<br/><br/>A sly grin crossed from cheek to cheek, though he made sure to keep most of his face hidden from her even when he passed a look over his shoulders. Ahead was the farmer's market, which he could easily turn into an obstacle course for his pursuer. A passing horse-cart that he quickly slid under, recovering swiftly on the other side to resume his escape; boxes of chickens he rolled and tossed back behind him, releasing frenzied, fluttering poultry; and a little fence he scaled swiftly and climbed over, trying to disappear into the alley behind it.<br/><br/>Perhaps the athletic noblewoman could keep up with the chase, perhaps she could not. But both the thrill of the pursuit and the amusement of foiling her were thoughts both entertaining and fueling his adrenaline as he ran with her purse in hand.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>