The night was cool, the pavement still damp from the rain. The streetlights' glow lay like pale islands on the asphalt, with darkness creeping between them, dense and heavy. The wind smelled of metal and smoke, and somewhere in the distance, a loose sign clattered in rhythm with the breeze.
Alaric walked quickly, head lowered, hood pulled deep over his face as if trying to take the darkness with him. His footsteps echoed sharply on the wet ground, each strike a rhythm driving them further apart.
"Alaric!" Lina's voice cut through the silence, bright and desperate.
He didn't stop. Only his shoulders moved briefly, as if the word had grazed him, then he continued, walking faster until her steps behind him grew more hurried.
"Wait!"
She ran, breathing shallow, rain clinging to her coat. When she reached him, she grabbed his arm. It was tense like a rope, muscles hard beneath the fabric. He turned around slowly, his face half-hidden under the hood.
