Ah, all the little people of Ipswich were leaving their jobs and heading home. The whole town was so quaint. Much more endearing than his good old London. But alas, there were far fewer suspicious folks there, and more folks in general. Pierce mulled over which particular person he wanted to take back with him as a prize, when the delightful sent of baked dough hit his nose. He wandered closer to the bakery, seeing a young woman and determining she would be a valuable thrall. If nothing else, she could cook for the human slaves he and his friends housed to serve them. He smirked softly, awaiting her to near the shadows.