The population of Nar Shadda were a formidable lot, everyone was packing and those who lived more than a day there quickly learned just who to avoid and who o draw attention to. The average person kept to themselves and didn't yell to loudly when gangsters were near, for the sake of living. For Dragous, he was all for minding his own business, he wasn't in the fighting mood and he certainly didn't want to attract any attention. He just wanted to eat. But he also didn't really want to put too much thought into it. So, when the streets started clearing up as a bad omen of a coming firefight, Dragous barely took note of the danger; he just noticed the opportunity to take stuff people had left behind.

Old dirty floor bread? Jackpot!

There he sat, huddled in a desolate corner, the bins leaking a sea of upturned trash around him, nibbling on bread. He was slow about it, his stomach wanting to savor the 'meal', the fulfilling feeling of a soft substance being dragged down his throat was one he wanted to drag out. Otherwise he'd be left with his stomach grumbling in the next five minutes. And if his stomach kept grumbling, he'd start making meals out of people and most authorities shun that sort of behavior. Dragous found security in this spot, splayed out like a stiff puppet, you could almost make the mistake of assuming he was dead. The meal, the clothes, the body language, the smell; Dragous certainly looked like a rather pathetic creature, one that would give no benefit to bothering for most. Unless his face really did just piss you off.

So, he was blind the trading of gunfire, deaf to the yells and screams and numb to the shaking of the ground as property was reduced to dust. His mind was completely focused on his food, that is until a foreboding presence struck a chord in his mind. A tingle running down his back that brought images of legends that haunted his mind since childhood. His hand reached down, instinctively running a finger along the cloth that sheltered the twin hilts strapped to his back. He was back to reality, hearing the damning sound of a light saber being ignited.

Was that fear he could feel? Or did his bones go stiff with all this sitting?