Elayra cast Ghent a quick glare in the dimness of the unlit alley when he all but shoved her outside.
	“Do you think I’m [i]blind?[/i]” she returned as Ghent passed her up, [i]him[/i] pulling [i]her[/i] instead for a moment before her pace evened out with his. At least he was fairly fast.
	The lights of the street ahead cast a friendly, almost welcoming glow at the end of the dark alley. Elayra still grasped her sword in her free hand as the road grew steadily closer, her head swiveling in a vain attempt at spotting anything in the shadows already saturating the alleyway.
	When they neared the road, a stream of shadow shot just beyond the curb and pooled into another oval on the concrete.
	If Ghent did not immediately stop, Elayra tried to pull him to one a couple feet from the halo of light cast by the nearest streetlamp, and stepped slightly in front of him as the beast traveling within the shadow leapt out onto the sidewalk.
	The beast’s face resembled that of a panther, only flatter as if someone had hit it a little too hard with an iron skillet. Its long tail twisted behind it, curling in ways it should not have been capable of curling. The fur on its scrunched-looking body appeared segmented, the strands of hair a vibrant red save for two black three-leaf clovers, one on its head and the other near its tail. It grinned in a way only a Wonderland cat can, showing off its unnatural mouthful of sharp fangs, its glowing eyes filled with both an intelligence and malice that radiated a taste for flesh. 
	Pulling from Ghent’s grip, Elayra took a small step toward the cat, the beast’s head about level with her bellybutton. She pushed the fatigue that had been weighing her down to the back of her mind as well as she could.
	“Are you lost, poor kitty cat?” she taunted, a cruel gleam befitting Curse-ridden Drust entering her eyes. It would seem she would get her wish of fighting the wretched beasts. “It’s a shame your master gave you too much leash, little pet.” A sadistic smile pulled at the corner of her mouth, while the beast gave a low growl and bent, ready to pounce. “It’ll be enough for me to strangle you with.”
	With an echoic, throaty roar, the shadowmire lunged. Its body stretched and thinned at each of the lines in its fur, slinky-like, revealing red, scaly skin between rings of fur, its long, sharp claws extended toward Ghent and Elayra.