On the outskirts of Kazmer, a solitary cloaked figure wades through the remnants of a human ghetto, a smoking, crumbled shadow of memories not missed.  From beneath the hood, light flashes glistens from a pair of longing eyes.  They shut momentarily, the consciousness behind them drifting about the creature, before opening once more.<br/><br/>"You're here, mother." It's lips part, whispering to itself.  Further now into the city - smoke wafting from torn buildings, the dead at foot, asphalt smeared dark.  The smell of feces - digested foes - broken weapons and blank eyes, haunting, open eyes, gazing at the gray skies mournfully.<br/><br/>The cloaked being takes no note of the approaching form behind - silent and shadowed from the alleys.  A blade whistles through the air, dull and rust-stained; the cloak shreds at the neck, the edge passing clean through.  The fur officer laughs as the claok wafts the the ground in the wind, only to realize that its wearer was crouching beneath it, taking cover but clearly intact.  With a grunt, the vulpine swings the blade up and over, to bring it down the middle... cutting the cloth in two.  Cloth alone; the blade catches nothing else.  The foxes eye's go wide, even as the edge of the<span style="font-style: italic">Khukuri</span>rests agains his right jugular.<br/><br/>"Creature." A voice, soft as down, yet clear and audible, demands of him.  "I have not offended you.  Make an excuse for this, post haste."  The vulpine grits its teeth and looks back, daring not move.<br/><br/>"You smell like... a human." It bristles.<br/><br/>"One's scent seems not to be a reasonable motivation for murder." The voice behind the blade replies.  "Drop your weapon and face me."<br/><br/>The fox guard comes face to face with a set of amber eyes... slit pupils, but set in a perfectly proportion face; soft, androgynous features, tousled blonde hair, fangs... and scales running up the sides and back of the cheeks and neck.  This would either be a boyishly good-looking girl or a gorgeous young man; the latter being the case.  His full lips part, his soft voice continuing.  "I want you to walk four hundred paces in the direction I came from.  Don't look back.  And do not raise your hand again."  A tongue, thick but forked, flicks in and out.<br/><br/>The vulpine guard swallows.  "Understood." He nods, turning away slowly, counting his steps under his breath.  "Five... six..." His furry fingers wander inside his tattered uniform, loosing two perfectly balanced blades.  "Seven."  On his heel he turns, furiously swinging his hand out with both knives... an instant later, they bounce from a brick wall to his left.  Through the vulpine's wrist, the Khukuri protrudes where the young man had intercepted.  Twisting it, he gives the guard a disappointed look, licking his lips.<br/><br/>"It seems... you have much to learn.  This life, however, has failed you as a teacher." The fox groans, gripping his wrist with his one free arm, before staring up in horror as the young man leans in, opening his mouth...<br/><br/>Some time later, the handsome youth, stomach distended somewhat, wandered over a short hill, a park, an adjacent some distance away, several warehouses came into view.  He stared out, concentrating.  On the building.  On the many figures surrounding it, struggling to enter at some points, and he percieved it.  That presence.<br/><br/>"Mother." He bristles, jetting down the hill now, weapons in hand...