Dean slowed to keep pace between both Donovan and their new drow companion. Although the tidal wave of energy he’d imbibed was seeping out far more rapidly than he’d have anticipated (one could point out to Dean that Sae’Ka’s black holes had lasted fractions of a second), he was still far more primed than he’d experienced…well, ever. He made the lope seem easy, his body all liquid grace. And still, he bore about him a mantle of innocence, of a type of morality that was at utter contrast with the man he’d been mere seconds before.<br/><br/>And then they were running through buildings, weaving through alley ways. Dean trusted the drow to keep up, to see where they were going, and Donovan too – but he was always near to help, always wary for his newfound friends. And yes, Dean did consider them friends at the moment.<br/><br/>By the time they burst through the buildings and appeared on the long wooden planks of the docks, the calls of pursuit had picked up. Rallying cries around the city were filtering through the buildings, threatening to foil their escapes. Docked ships, many with large wagons laden with goods, bobbed gently in the harbor and, thanks to the hour, the still-working merchants and sailors spared the group not a single glance; affairs of the city mattered little to them.<br/><br/>Turning around, Dean exhaled softly, muttering in Sae’Ka and Donovan’s general direction, “Sorry about this, but I think I’ll be going back to my normal self rather soon.” Looking directly at Sae’Ka, he asked, “Lovely woman, would you mind sending off a distraction – a flare, or flurry of light, to the north of the town, away from us?”<br/><br/>So saying, Dean crouched, eyes narrowed in concentration. The shadows around them deepened, then began writhing, coalescing. A few moments later, two groups of shadowy-figures that roughly resembled the foursome stepped free and began running away – one to the south and one directly back the way they’d come. They moved like their real counterparts, only much faster. No doubt they’d be slippery little fucks to catch.<br/><br/>Immediately, Dean’s great height and mass descended to a far more manageable six and a half feet or so, and the gravitonic pull decreased; while he was still deliriously handsome, he no longer produced an alluring aura. Turning dark, slightly exhausted eyes to the group, Dean leered over at Sae’Ka and whispered, voice a low, predatory thrum. “Someone smells delicious tonight.”<br/><br/>And then he grinned, all sardonic sarcasm, and looked to see how his Knight was faring.<br/>