Donovan heard Dean's thought clearly. Glancing around, Donovan didn't see his shadow anywhere - he could be out front, out back, down below, or hell, even in one of the nearby buildings. Donovan sighed, thinking that the shadow part of himself had slipped into hiding in the neighbor's house, found one of their daughters alone and wanting and... well... he wouldn't put it past Dean to make himself useful in other ways while their hideout was coming down around Donovan's head. Of course, Donovan could really only blame himself. No one had -asked- him to bring this party to an end.<br/><br/>~The docks... I'll try to make it to 'The Stoneskipper' and with luck we can cast off and get the hell away from here before another batch of the Vizier's men come looking for us AND their general,~ Donovan thought back to Dean. He referred, of course, to the galley that he and Dean had used before, on loan from a merchant in far-off Cavanagh. No, that wasn't entirely true either... Dean had -stolen- the boat, telling Donovan he had borrowed it and not confessing the actual truth until they were days out of port. Well, that was one place they likely would never be able to return. Even so, the ship was small, not really a 'galley', more like a 'schooner'. But it floated, it sailed, and it moved quickly across the waves, which was exactly what they could really use right now.<br/><br/>"Whaddya say... ready to go sailing?" Donovan asked the 'pup' laying nearly limp over his arm. Donovan thought about expending a bit of power to heal the fox, but he figured he'd save it, just in case they met more men eager to end them.<br/><br/>Glancing down at Methuseld laying unconscious, he realized he'd have to carry her, as well. "Dammit Dean. Getting out of all the work again," Donovan muttered to no one in particular as he squatted down, slipped arm arm beneath Mehtuseld's unconscious but healed form, and hefted her up as gently as he could onto his shoulder. She was a woman - smaller than him, lighter, and the fox also didn't weigh much, either. Carefully, Donovan picked his way through the rubble towards the back of the house, carefully stepped out into the alleyway, and began to walk. He'd stick to the alleys for now, staying out of sight of as many people as possible. Even though the fox and the general did not weigh overly much, he still might draw some attention carrying a woman over one shoulder and a fox over his other arm. Reaching down with his hand at the end of the arm holding the fox, he retrieved Methuseld's sword.<br/><br/>Thankfully, there was a lot of attention out -front- of the house. The fire, the rubble, the entire incident had drawn a crowd, and curious bystanders were eagerly watching and looking for any signs of activity. This only helped Donovan's escape, and quickly he made his way down the alley quite a distance before he had to cut north, towards the harbor. Down another alley, sticking to the darker nooks and crannies, he expected Dean to pop out of the shadows any moment. But no, Donovan figured now that Dean would wait and appear AFTER he reached the boat, so that Dean wouldn't have to help carry anyone or anything.<br/><br/>Reaching the boat was much easier than expected. This late at night, the few people he met were well into their cups, and didn't really think much of a man lugging a woman back to his bunk for a tumble. Of course, seeing the addition of a fox in the mix made a FEW passersby raise a brow or two. One drunk laughed at him. "A woman AND a dog? Heh! Whatever floats yer boat, matey!" Donovan scoffed at the man but said nothing, continuing on, fearful of meeting more of the Vizier's men anytime now.<br/><br/>Upon reaching the boat, Donovan was mostly relieved that the boat was still there. He boarded quickly and took his two 'passengers' below decks. There were only a few small rooms there, with hammocks for beds and little in the way of comforts. He gently set the fox down on the wood floor in a corner, and then moved to the nearest hammock and eased the general off his shoulder and into the rope-bed. Glancing about, he saw a small coil of rope and retrieved it, then began to bind the general's hands behind her back, as well as binding her ankles together. It wouldn't do well to have their hostage awaken and then escape so easily.<br/><br/>He quickly then searched Methuseld for any other possible weapons on her person, and his curiosity about her only grew. He had felt the... fascination? Infatuation? Whatever it was, she had tried to use some sort of power on them, but thankfully Donovan hadn't been very close to her before the collapse. Dean, however, had been -very- close to her. Perhaps he might know more.<br/><br/>Feeling better now that Methuseld was secure, and her person searched of hidden weapons, he reached forward and gently patted her cheeks in order to wake her. He had questions, important questions that need answered, ones that only she could help them with.