The Pursuant hadn’t been to this city before, it’s buildings furtive and population much warmer and more short-lived than the heart of the colony world. He scratched at the scar tissue lining his visualizer. The night air was newly cooled, but that didn’t stop the sealed visor edges from itching around his eyes. The landscape was sparser than he enjoyed and his shoulders curled inwards under the oppressive starlight as he began to walk towards the center of the lowblood city.
The streets were too early for crowds- his head didn’t ding with the presence of any living beings and his visualizer remained clear. The structures around him were squat and spread out, any alleyways too wide and bright-lit for his typical approach. Maybe--
He dug short claws into the side of a windowless building, seeking fingerhold cracks and finding them. The lanky yellowblood grinned to himself, thick fangs pressing against his chin. Climbing was good. Heights were good. The three trolls with strife specubi deployed and pointed towards him when he reached the top were not.
He swore, words spat through teeth as he threw himself upwards. His matched daggers were dull glints in his hands as he started to fall towards the three trolls. The fight was short, and not in his favor. It was a show of marking and defending territory, but by the time the Pursuant had realized this, he had amassed a collection of bruises and pains. He hurt as he leapt and ran, breath ragged, throwing himself across gaps until the distance between himself and the colored dots across his visor had widened.
He groaned as he dropped from a rooftop and landed onto a pile of moldering fabric, the arrowhead at his hip sharp and his ribs aching from a psionic crush he endured moments before. He lay there, wishing his handlers had given him more support as he bled.
