Phoenix said:
Moving carefully through the street, Azot's mind began working on the problem at hand. If he was to hunt the Leaguers as Sebek had commanded him to do he would need information and he would have to find a lair to rest and pray during the hunt. Looking around the street to take in the structures around him, his eyes could not miss the homeless people huddled close to each other. Azot felt his contempt for the Upworlders growing quickly as they all seemed to shy away from his glances and cringe as his steps took him past them.
If their fear did not keep them oppressed, perhaps their kind would not be in such dire straits...
As the odd colored rain fought a losing battle to wash the grim from him, Azot allowed himself to move towards the faint smell of fresh bread. While he would sometimes be given a loaf of the fungi bread that was made in the Undercity, it was always cold and more often than not nearly stale. Azot did not complain about the gesture as any tribute to Sebek was fitting in his eyes, but a stray memory of a time when fresh bread was a daily thing fought to escape from the dark recesses of Azot's mind.
She would bake for him. A loaves of honey bread with sausages baked inside them as well. He would act as though it tasted awful while he reached for his fourth serving. She loved him. He loved her.
A heavy boom of thunder brought Azot back to reality and he snarled to himself for allowing the city to infect him for even a moment. He would go where the smell came from, but he would go because there would be other people there as well. People who could answer his questions, or speak of him asking and send the ones who could his way.
The hunt begins soon Sebek. I will not fail you.
Increasing his pace, Azot allowed his nose to guide him as he moved through the broken tiled street never noticing that as he moved down the street, his bare feet left no wet footprints behind.
