Vincent was idly aware of the young lady stalking up behind him. It was really no fault of her own that he detected her when she was trying to avoid his notice; she was a perfectly decent sneak. It just so happened that the few signs she could not hide- the sound of her beating heart, or the smell of her living flesh -were clear as day to him. Even her hand slipping into his pocket was subtly and artfully done. Vincent decided that he could perhaps extract a little entertainment from this girl before he made his climb.

With startling speed his free hand shot down and seized the girl's wrist with strength that stopped just short of crushing it. He didn't bother to cover her mouth to stifle a scream; a trained thief knew better than to attract attention to themselves when they had been caught. Setting down his wine, he reached over to yank the girl's hood down, sending her hair cascading down her back. Brushing the locks behind her ear, he leaned into her at an almost intimate distance.

He coolly whispered to her, "If you wish to keep your hand, come with me, and do not make a scene."

With that, he stood up, still clutching her wrist, and made his way to the back of the inn. From there he led into the small room that he had rented for his daily rest.