Somewhere in an alley, an important trade was being made. And sitting above their heads unkown to them, was Rorik. The anthro grey wolf, roughly five foot three and wearing a simple tan tunic, simply waited for his chance.<br/><br/>Rorik was sitting on a wooden beam hanging above an alleyway, watching a group of soldiers and another group of people, important foreigners, converse in trade and talk. Of course, Rorik could see what he was after; a priceless necklace with a huge, sparkling blue gemstone in the center. The rest, made up of various golds and platinums, shined as if (and no doubt had been) it had been polished for hours on end. He simply had to wait for it...<br/><br/>And he suddenly hooked his feet on the wooden board and swung down, hanging by his feet, and grabbed the necklace right out of the man's hands. Rorik then pulled himself up (he'd been training on that manuevar for quite awhile, this necklace was quite expensive) and climbed up onto the roof, avoiding the shouts and curses being thrown at him. He continued to run across the roofs, jumping from building to building until he finally reached his safehuse. One would have to jump off a pole to get there, but that wasn't much of a hassle to Rorik. He normally lost his pursuers long before then.<br/><br/>He sat in a comfortable chair and looked over his prize. Once again, he had gotten alot for so little work.