Raice had no time for a meal.  Nor did he want to distend his fanned wounds with his flesh.  In three swift strokes, he felt himself sprayed with the warm, dribbling life of his opponent.  He'd definitely hit an artery somewhere.  A dead weight dropped to the ground, and he knelt to make sure the job was done.<br/><br/>He scrambled through the darkness, finally finding the deadweight of the young soldier.  Pulse.  Breath.  Enough for him.  He was safer here, Raice decided, for now.  He'd come back for him later if the young man hadn't left on his own.<br/><br/>He left for the outside once more, finding the door and strutting into daylight.