"Ruttin' churl," was her return mutter, delivered with a grimace.
They touched land. Her eyes were sharp in the darkness, and she was looking back and forth, careful, before she moved them forward. Didn't mean she didn't catch whatever eyes might be watching, but nothing was going to be precisely perfect. She walked with the confidence of someone with business, not with the sort of sneaky hunch of someone with something to hide; as far as her body language was concerned, she had legitimate interest in the narrow alley between the two stone buildings right off the pier. Legitimate enough, at any rate.
Without a backward glance or another word, she started to climb. She moved steadily, pausing every little bit to take another look around. The climb progressed. Slow, yes, but also unimpeded. This was an hour when most activity was conducted inside, and those left out were often as disreputable and miserable as Zhi herself -- except when they weren't. Lookouts weren't uncommon. So long as said lookouts were seen before they saw anything, the run would go smoothly.
They hit the upper tier, and Zhi moved along the gentler slope of the uppermost edge of the spire to one of the short towers that rose parallel to it. Here were the cables that kept it secure against storms, connecting it both to the spire that birthed it and the nearest one to it -- the one they needed to climb over to.
But they weren't alone, up there.
The problem with being so high was that Zhi's main sense of detection, her nose, was all but useless; the air was typically moving, and changing directions. It was only by luck, and by sight, that she caught sight of another miqo'te crouched near one of the cables. She had no idea what the other person was doing, and she didn't care. She immediately flattened herself against the stone, looking behind her to locate Jager and gesture him both down and closer.
They hadn't been seen. Yet.
Once Jager got close enough to hear her whisper, she spoke. "Got anythin' t'take him down wi'? Quietly?"
They touched land. Her eyes were sharp in the darkness, and she was looking back and forth, careful, before she moved them forward. Didn't mean she didn't catch whatever eyes might be watching, but nothing was going to be precisely perfect. She walked with the confidence of someone with business, not with the sort of sneaky hunch of someone with something to hide; as far as her body language was concerned, she had legitimate interest in the narrow alley between the two stone buildings right off the pier. Legitimate enough, at any rate.
Without a backward glance or another word, she started to climb. She moved steadily, pausing every little bit to take another look around. The climb progressed. Slow, yes, but also unimpeded. This was an hour when most activity was conducted inside, and those left out were often as disreputable and miserable as Zhi herself -- except when they weren't. Lookouts weren't uncommon. So long as said lookouts were seen before they saw anything, the run would go smoothly.
They hit the upper tier, and Zhi moved along the gentler slope of the uppermost edge of the spire to one of the short towers that rose parallel to it. Here were the cables that kept it secure against storms, connecting it both to the spire that birthed it and the nearest one to it -- the one they needed to climb over to.
But they weren't alone, up there.
The problem with being so high was that Zhi's main sense of detection, her nose, was all but useless; the air was typically moving, and changing directions. It was only by luck, and by sight, that she caught sight of another miqo'te crouched near one of the cables. She had no idea what the other person was doing, and she didn't care. She immediately flattened herself against the stone, looking behind her to locate Jager and gesture him both down and closer.
They hadn't been seen. Yet.
Once Jager got close enough to hear her whisper, she spoke. "Got anythin' t'take him down wi'? Quietly?"
