Snippet #983304

"It doesn't matter what he's done before." Pike growled--to himself mostly. What an absurd group he was fraternizing with, a bloodthirsty demon, and an appearantly disinterested werewolf. And then there was himself, the lynx-shifting criminal. "Ivon's rounded up too many of my friends to just let him get away with it." And it was true, Ivon deserved all the fires of hell, and Pike was going to deliver it to him. "So are we agreed? We are going to the capital city. My talents could prove particularly useful to our goal. We don't have to fight every guard to get in, and I think I know a way to keep well-hidden. But we have to get there first," his voice was sober, quiet. Pike had no idea who, or what, could have been listening--but he was about to find out.

The next rooftop was relatively close, and from across the distance the dark-cloaked figure sat, listening to their every word with keen and malicious hearing. Then from his crouched position he dug his hobnail boots into the edge of the building and launched himself across the span between the buildings, a distance no human could cross, and slammed into the frame of the window, breaking the glass with the force of his landing.

Pike spun around to face the figure, and then his eyes darted to his spear sitting across the room where he couldn't get to it in time. Twisting his hips on the surface of the bed, he thew a sideways kick at the figure--who caught it, and drew a jagged knife and plunged it downward. But the blade missed its mark and cut into the bed instead.