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Beneath the cloak of night, Kieran and Tessa silently threaded their way through the labyrinthine, cobblestone streets of Dawnbreak. The moon, a pale lantern in the sky, cast fleeting shadows as they moved toward the city's outskirts.
Tessa, concealed in a light brown hooded cloak that Isabella had given her just before they departed, walked beside Kieran with a grace born of both caution and curiosity. The minty fox had also grabbed all of his supplies and weapons, his backpack fastened over his shoulders as well as his bow.
Perseus nestled at the nape of her neck in the hood, an easily concealed little dragon. He remained silent, knowing full well that stealth was necessary at that moment. A smart dragon indeed!
The city, in the shroud of night, wore a different face — a tapestry of muted colors and dimly candlelit windows. As they reached the city's edge, Kieran cast a glance back at the sleeping silhouette of the quaint settlement. The city's secrets whispered in the rustle of midnight winds seemed to fade into the backdrop.
Kieran, attuned to the ebb and flow of the night, led Tessa with the assurance of one who navigates the witching hour. Their destination lay beyond the city's embrace, where the rocky outcroppings awaited, promising a temporary refuge beneath the stars.
The journey, marked by the rhythmic cadence of footsteps, carried the weight of unspoken questions. Surely, though, they’d have plenty of time to talk alone and not be monitored by anyone when they properly made camp outside the walls.
In the quiet passage from city to wilderness, Tessa's green eyes, covered beneath the clothing she wore, observed the nocturnal world with a blend of doubt and inquisitiveness.
As they neared a narrow alleyway, a tense dialogue reached Kieran's sharp ears. He held up a paw, signaling Tessa to pause, and soundlessly moved forward, keeping out of anyone’s eyesight as best as he could.
Tessa got on her hands and knees behind some wood logs, obeying Kieran’s guidance.
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The brave minty fox crouched and sneaked along, until ahead of him was where one could turn a corner. He made his way slowly, careful not to let even the claws on his feet-paws drag on the stone below. Each footstep was placed with the utmost care and attention.
He came upon the corner, where he looked through the cracks of a wooden crate. From the concealment of the dark crate, Kieran's ears twitched as he discerned the murmur of voices.
In the dimly lit space, he could see a disquieting scene unfolding — a lone guard, clad in the familiar armor of Dawnbreak's guard force, surrounded by fellow sentinels. The tension in the air was palpable, that much was easy to tell on the spot.
‘But… why? What’s going on?’ he wondered.
"Keep your muzzle shut, Hans," one of the guards sneered, a brown fox with amber eyes, his voice dripping with menace. "You didn't see anything, got it? If you breathe a word about what happened tonight, you'll wish you never wore that armor."
Hans, a white fox, cornered against the alley's cold stone walls, wore a conflicted expression. The badge on his chest gleamed weakly in the scant light.
"I can't lie about this, Voss," Hans replied, a glimmer of defiance in his red eyes. "Malachai's escape will have consequences. I won't be part of a cover-up."
The tension escalated, long shadow figures dancing on the brick walls that enclosed them as the guards closed in, their voices a threatening crescendo. Kieran listened intently, his golden eyes narrowed with concern. Was he about to witness something terrible?
“Besides,” Hans said bravely, though trembling was evident in both his body and voice, “I know you’ll take my life tonight anyway.”
"For the last time, Hans," Voss growled irritably, his patience worn thin. "Swear on your life, you won't utter a word about what transpired. We have our reasons, and you don't want to find out what happens if you defy us."
The other guards with Voss snarled, their white fangs flashing here and there, hands on their swords, ready to draw at a moment’s notice, hands quivering with clear excitement at the thought of some action. Low guttural growls reverberated from their throats.
Hans, though surrounded, held onto his principles like a flickering flame against the encroaching shadows. "I won't betray my duty. Dawnbreak deserves better than a guard who compromises its safety for the sake of his own life."
Voss exchanged a glance with his accomplices, and an unspoken agreement was reached. In the gloomy alley, the betrayal played out like a tragic theater, and Kieran, hidden from view, felt the gravity of the situation.
The guards lunged at Hans, their blows landing with brutal precision.
Just like that, Hans’ white coat was stained crimson red with his blood. Once he was on the ground, Voss signaled for his lackeys to stay put and moved closer to Hans, his blade drawn.
“Too bad,” he said, chillingly calm, “you were a great man. You would have been invaluable to us.”
Hans looked up with terror in his eyes, breathing fast and heavy, knowing his time was coming any second. He trembled as if bitten with winter’s frost. With that, Voss swung his sword and slashed open the throat of the poor white fox.