Aza was off and gone within moments, slipping nimbly through the crush of people like, well, a shadow, her dark cloak pulled around her armful of fox. Civilization, yes. And civilization also meant commerce, lots of it. Just a street away from the shore was a mile's worth of marketplace, tables and booths spread with goods both necessary and luxury. And foxgirls have short attention spans. Never mind that the remainder of her party was hurtling in the opposite direction, attempting to escape with their lives. They weren't a fun party anyway.<br/><br/>A few assassin-types did break from the rest in an attempt to shove after her, but their pursuit was futile. Perhaps others had a magical means of tracking her, but no one'd caught up by the time she was a few blocks down, behind the drape of one of the tented stalls and arguing heatedly with a vendor over the price of a fancily tooled leather pouch with a padded shoulder strap.<br/><br/>She could be convincing. A minute later she was snapping three silver links off her necklace -- which was only one more than her original lowball offer -- and trading them for the bag, then tucking the fox securely inside. The fox was just suggesting that its ride would benefit from a cushion too, maybe made from real rabbit fur like at the next stall down, when Dean, who had struck out on his own, got himself stabbed. Right in the fucking head.<br/><br/>Aza sunk to her knees from the unexpected pain that seemed to lance blindingly into her brain, the fox yelping at the same time. The sensation passed just as quickly as it'd arrived, leaving the two of them staring at each other with astonishment in their identically-hued blue eyes.<br/><br/>"He died, I think," Aza said after hesitation, her brows drawn.<br/><br/><em>I can die?! </em>wailed the fox.<br/><br/>"Are you alive?" Aza asked, not rhetorically. All this shadow stuff was tricky.<br/><br/><em>...Maybe, </em>the fox decided. They looked out into the still-growing throng of passerby, perhaps addressing for the first time the very real dangers that surrounded them. What exactly was their plan? Find a new, decent owner? That could take days or more, and nothing in this city could possibly compete with what she'd left behind anyway. Head back to the docks and try to ply passage home? Find their ship, maybe, and have it take them back across the lake... assuming the ship agreed to go, without Dean.<br/><br/>Without Dean. Without Dean cluttering up part of her head, she was suddenly and distractingly more aware of... Don. Who was still moving further away, as far as Aza could tell, and for reasons she wasn't sure she understood, she didn't like that. It kind of hurt. Maybe following Donovan and Methuseld was better. Yes. That had been the original idea, hadn't it?<br/><br/>She settled the bag of fox comfortably on her slender hip, pulled her hood back up over her pale blue hair, and set off after the shining beacon in her head that was Don.