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[i]Little bastards' quick.[/i] Mal'akuth mused as he watched the boy and his dog slip out of the bar with the stench of fresh sweat trailing him like an invisible ghost. If that reaction didn't attest to his guiltniness, then Mal didn't known what would. But the beast had little time to waste on thinking about such trivial matters, the hunt was on and his prey was on the move. 

Without paying his bill Mal'akuth lept out of the bar and started after the the boy. Even with all the precautions the he took, he couldn't hope to escape the superior senses of the Apex Predator. No being ever had. And once Mal'akuth picked up his trail, finding him would only take seconds at most. The mind of the Sykrott was no longer that of a bar patron slothed on weak synthentic whiskey, but that of a hunter. With the agility of such, Mal'akuth took to higher-ground, using the buildings to speed up his pursuit.

Within moments Mal'akuth came to a stop on the roof of a shop known as Valentine Armaments. The trail ended here. Mal'akuth sniffed the air tentatively. More scents mingled with that of the boy's within the shop.  They were scents he recognized from somewhere. Yes, they belonged to those revolutionists from the bar earlier. Was the boy somehow connected? Mal'akuth hesitated. In any other situation he would has blasted his way in and slaughtered the shop's patrons. But something urged him to listen. Call it instinct.