As Feign nears a sharp turn in the tunnel, he slows, walking as quietly as possible.  The talking before he could pinpoint the direction, but he was fairly sure that at least the one fur was somewhere around the bend.  He silently smirked for a split second at the coincidence.  Clearly, the spirits had chosen his allies for him today.<br/><br/>The smirk vanished as he stepped into the beginning of the turn.  he ran through the words he might say, answers to possible questions, attack and defence patterns if things should turn ugly, keeping his eyes on the sewer around hi-<br/><br/>*BLOOSH!*<br/><br/>And knocking a loose chunk of concrete on the pathway into the nearly full runoff drain...   He closes his eyes in regret at his complete failure at being stealthy, silently cursing his unbelievably bad luck.