Above the skies of Pyrellis, three owls glided in the night, their wings cutting silently through the air.
They trailed a shadowy figure darting below, weaving through the maze-like alleys of the lower city.
The figure made an abrupt turn, then another, backtracking and shifting directions in rapid succession, clearly trained in counter-tracking.
Every movement was precise and deliberate. Then, with a sudden burst of speed, the figure disappeared beneath an overhead structure, swallowed by the night.
From above, Lugh's eyes narrowed as two of the owls swooped down, gliding dangerously low over rooftops and hanging lanterns.
The third and largest owl remained high in the air, its keen vision piercing the darkness like a blade through cloth.
But their quarry was slippery, almost supernaturally so. She slid through narrow spaces, dashed under makeshift bridges, and vanished between closed market stalls like smoke.
