Winternest Part 1

The city was asleep at this time of night, even the lanterns had burned low. Guards rarely walked the streets anymore and it was anybody's game. The occasional cloud passed over the moon, extending the shadows between the buildings until nothing could be seen of the murky dirt road, patched by pavers, riddled with wagonholes.

Sirus kept running.

The ten year old kitsune boy ran flat out, tail and robes swinging behind freely. He gasped as his robes caught on a wagon spoke, tearing and making a noise ill-fitting in the dark. He sucked his breath in and tried not to yell from fright though some kind of monster was on his trail. Every loud noise grew to his ears, every small crack of sticks in the path he'd clearly blazed with heavy footfalls shook his nerves. Goodness knew what would happen if he were caught.

The half-fox boy kept a tight hold on his prize: a blue pot, red rimmed and covered in gold decorations. He had no idea what was in it; all he'd done was take what he'd been told to take. That was before the man helping him was killed.

It seemed whomever these monsters were, they were after the same pot. And they didn't even flinch at killing to get it. Sirus knew he'd been lucky to get away. He briefly considered dropping it, leaving his troubles behind. But he knew that whatever was chasing him wouldn't stop with the pot. It would want him dead. It was a simple rule of the underground that no one saw you take anything, and if Sirus knew who had the pot he could tell someone. That and Sirus had been witness to a murder. That sort of thing doesn't bode well when one is running from the killer.

No, it was best to hold onto that container harder, keep running faster, and never stop. Once he got to the guild house he would be safe. Safe from whoever, whatever, was chasing him.