Well shit. Aza quickly turned off the paved stone road and backtracked through an archway into the walled garden, but the shouts behind her indicated her maneuver had not been sufficiently evasive.<em>Dirty?</em>the fox repeated, sounding offended. "Dusty, maybe," said Aza as they hopped a hedge and forded a fountain. She remembered battling the Drow warrior's magic-snake-kidnappers in a fountain, back in the Vizier's tower. Had that been yesterday? Seemed like a year and two months ago.<br/><br/>She pulled up short because someone was approaching from the other doorway now, and she knew it wasn't Donovan. Methuseld, maybe? Nope, not even. Not that the other two could be so stupid as to split up in an unfamiliar city with assailants closing in from every direction anyway, right?<br/><br/>Aza had been in a situation like this one once or twice before, but her life and safety had always been the pursuers' prize. The angry men behind her currently reducing the city guard to something pulpy did not seem to share that particular aim. And even if they did have orders to take her alive, such goals could all too easily be forgotten in the rage of hand-to-hand violence, only remembered when damage was already done. Men in groups were somewhat notorious for behaving in a thoughtlessly savage manner, after all. Also men singly, actually. They were sort of terrible creatures. All of them.<br/><br/>How had these particular brutes even found her, anyway? Located one stealthy little thing among a city of a million?<br/><br/><em>Much is at work,</em>the fox noted.<br/><br/>Aza eyed the next story's balcony and considered scaling the nearest vine-wrapped trellis.<em>What, and get sap in our fur?</em>the fox snorted.<br/><br/>"If not sap, then blood," Aza pointed out, as the remaining unlucky city guardsman came tumbling through the decorative palm trees, scimitar-wielding thugs right after.<br/><br/><em>Blood it is! </em>the fox declared loudly, and the leading thug paused in the act of hacking up the guard, wondering if the dog in the bag had really just said something. It was the last thing he ever wondered, because the fox launched itself out from under Aza's arm and, snarling and in a single bound, clamped its maw over the man's face and tore it clean off.<br/><br/>Well, 'clean' wasn't the right descriptor, maybe. The thug screamed wetly and fell backwards into the grass, giving the fox the opportunity to rip away another jawful of face and throat while it slashed with its hind feet, slicing through and strewing cloth and flesh and innards alike. Streams of shadow were lifting off its furry little form like black vapor, and when another thug stepped up to take a swing at the beast, those shadows rose up in the vague shapes of more fanged foxes and...<br/><br/>Aza decided not to watch, pulling her hood down and her cloak close to shield her from the view and the spray of gore.<br/><br/>The yelling and howling didn't last long. After several seconds of silence, save for the gentle splash of the fountain, she cautiously pushed a fold of her hood aside.<br/><br/>Shadows hugged every shape, lying thickly black beneath trees that now looked blighted and dead. The grass and flowers had withered to a crumbling ash, all but a small green circle about where the girl had hunkered. There was little recognizable left about the garden but the stone fountain, and what had been men were now palm-sized chunks and lengths of cracked bone, evenly distributed across the wasted ground. Aza hadn't witnessed -- or smelled -- something so viciously horrible since... since Dean's killing spree in the safehouse.<br/><br/>The shadows drifted. Aza called out something soft in foxspeak, and all the blackness moved and rolled towards her, reforming into a single fox as it did.<br/><br/><em>Treasure! </em>it said proudly, a wisp of darkness uncurling from it and divulging a shower of coins and rings and bracelets and small knives at Aza's feet. The stuff was, of course, all dripping with still-warm blood. Not a bad haul, acknowledged Aza's practical nature, though there was nothing with which to clean the dead men's possessions except her cloak. The garment was already splattered, though, and there was enough booty here to buy a new one, so... she quickly but gingerly began to wipe the items clean with her hem and scoop them into her bag.<br/><br/><em>Leave room, </em>said the fox.<em>I'm sleepy now.</em>And it yawned.<br/><br/>Aza only nodded, trying not to look any further than about a foot away from her task. Trading a few of these baubles for a new clean outfit and a bottle or two of wine would go a long way in forgetting about all of this.<br/><br/><em>Our Knight is here,</em>the fox mumbled, just as Aza became likewise aware that Donovan was finally within earshot. "In here, are we," she said rather needlessly, since Don could probably sense them just the same, and there was a trail of carnage smeared up the stairs and into the street for him to follow anyway.