[color=f7941d][h2]Douglas Song[/h2][/color][color=f7941d][h3]News 41 Broadcast Station - Alleyways[/h3][/color]
There was no motion for Song to step forward, to so much as up the ante, and it seemed like it was appreciated. The mysterious masked figure reconsidered, seeming to realize his opponent was not as overt a foe as he first thought. That much was true, the apparent martial artist wasn't all too concerned about their minor crimes, really, truthfully, seeking an answer at the moment - after all, they seemed to be some larger web of activity or interest and as an old saying paraphrased went, "Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake." More was to be gained at following up in another time and place than forcing a here and now.

Nodding slightly with tip of the chin, Song permitted the man to take his fallen companion away, sharing only one final glance before the two shadowy figures disappeared into the night, one in tow by the other. At least now he "knew" who they were, both distinct enough yet nondescript, just as his own disguise. The choice of a mask for one and a sack for the other were very specific, maybe evening meaningful. It would help in the time to come, although Song regretted he was unable to revive the man and perhaps earn a bit more information from them. All the same there was an understanding of why the other intervened as he did; they cared about one another enough to defend their own.

Just as the Golden Tiger suspected, the pair vanished in a puff of inky smoke the moment their feet met the end of the alley.

"Thank you." Song commented in reply, satisfied with what he had come to understand before turning in place and observing the darkened street he had followed to this place. The only illumination there, other than the yellowed bulbs of a few tiny lamps at the street itself, cast the shadows of the vagabonds and miscreants on to the walls. They all seemed to be mostly normal again, compared to whatever had happened prior.

While there was no desiring or looking for trouble, the fighter wouldn't stop himself short if they so happened to step in and intervene. After all, he was not opposed to liberating their dollars from their wallets if they were foolish enough to bother another strange figure to their grungy home on a night like this. Comfortable in such a decision, he adjusted the hood of his coat, glanced about where his attacker and the fallen figure had been, noting nothing, and returned the direction he came...

[@Metronome]