He stirred again beneath the city, the nape of his neck tingling in that Gods-be-Damned sensation that meant ... something. Without opening his eyes, he rolled over, burying his face beneath his pillow. Something had either entered, or something magic was being done. It was faint. An echo. But it still bothered him. All the same, he told her she was on her own. Hidden underground where the air was still cool, nothing would find him. He grumbled against the thin sheet, pushing the desire to see what she was up to out of his head. Let sleep claim him. He'd either find her corpse when the sun fell, or be able to ask if she'd learned her lesson.

[hr]

The corpse zeroed in on her, like a hound who had at last caught the scent of its prey. Almost mechanically, it swiped its blade at her, its bodily control off center, the momentum of the swing forcing its body to twist slightly. The threat of a topple. It caught itself on a shaking leg, the skin that had rotted away displaying the quaking muscle as it took on the mass of its weight. With a terrible expression, it opened its mouth and gave a silent snarl, its mouth full of pointed teeth. All of them were sharpened fangs, promising a lethal bite if she managed to get near. 
Its lips moved, speaking inaudible words, the throat too damaged to allow sound. But the message was clear in its clouded red eyes and upturned, snarling lips.