Lesser Evils, Part 14

14 – Horse Girl Roan carefully unfolded himself from his hiding place and sniffed the air, closing his eyes so he could concentrate on the neon thread of his own blood, the scent cutting through the miasma of neglect that made the air seem like a thick sludge. He gauged distance by its strength, opened his eyes, and followed it. He stuck to the shadows – not as easy as you would think, as it was night and the existence of shadows themselves was disputable – and it wasn’t too long before he found him, a shambling figure in a desert style camo jacket (tan on brown – exactly who did he think he was fooling?)  with a worn backpack slung across his shoulders. He could have passed for any of Seattle’s homeless, except he smelled of expensive...

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