Artemis was putting the final touches on her new outfit – tying the scarf that had been around her neck around her head to hide her distinctive hair – when a man's shout cut through the alley. She froze for half a second before forcing herself back into action. She couldn't see whoever the newcomer was (nor could she see the glowing sets of eyes hiding in the forest behind him). Her view was blocked by the bin she was hiding behind. But she certainly saw the red flair that lit up the sky, no doubt calling others to their location.

[color=darkturquoise]"Oh [i]c'mon[/i],"[/color] Artemis hissed to herself. The Kith didn't seem bothered. But that didn't put her at ease. The man shouted again, a distant birdcall seeming to answer him. Footsteps, numerous and fast-approaching, echoed down the street on her other side. Which meant she was about to be cornered.

She doubted her ability to talk her way out of this particular situation.

With quick fingers, Artemis finished off her knot and swung the strap of her stolen bag over her shoulder. Her eyes flicked around, looking for answers, some idea on how to get out without being arrested or electrocuted. Her left hand tingled in answer. Realization striking, she lifted it up to her hand to see a pale mark on her brown skin. Oseely's rune. It was all sharp angles and fluid lines, seeming to move on her palm though the lines were still. Smoke and flames. One of those sounded like just what she needed.

It was just like the other runes, right? Want something and make it so? She focused her thoughts on the rune inscribed on her open palm, thinking of heat and billowing ash. Reaching down, Artemis tried to find some ember of energy, of Oseely's spark and dancing light. She exhaled and narrowed her eyes at her palm, searching, reaching, pulling…

And a tiny ember sparked into existence above her hand before fizzling out, blown away by a gentle night breeze. 

[color=darkturquoise]"[i]Fuckin'–![/i]"[/color]

Artemis slammed her palm – her apparently [i]useless, un-magical[/i] palm – over her mouth at the expletive. It had been loud and sharp, no doubt alerting the man to her hiding place. The footsteps were louder now, so distinct Artemis could count them if she took the time. But she didn't have time.

Artemis moved her hand from her mouth and gave it a sharp jerk at the wrist, as though shaking it out would suddenly fill it with the magic she desperately needed. She held it palm up again and glared.
 
[color=darkturquoise]"C'mon, [i]smoke[/i],"[/color] she commanded. A thin black tendril lifted from her hand before it, too, was blown away. Artemis was getting fed up enough to consider chopping off her hand for its disobedience. She needed it [i]stronger[/i], she needed it to billow and blow for her, she–

Well damn. She had just the rune for that, didn't she? Looking down, she searched as quickly as she could for a sharp stone, a scrap of metal, anything she could draw with.

The smashed persimmon rested in a sad mess of pulp and skin not a foot away from her. Her hand flashed forward, grabbing it. Using it as a fat, messy, ugly brush she painted a familiar rune – the crude zigzag of lines that claimed others' runes as her own. It was huge and messy on the cobblestone, but it would have to do.

[color=darkturquoise]"Deep breath kid,"[/color] she mumbled to the Kith, the words a quiet prayer that this plan worked. She looked up one last time to see three men in black clothes round the corner. One of them, the youngest it seemed, caught her stare. His eyes widened and his lips began to part in a call. Artemis slammed her palm onto the ground. The large, ugly rune took a moment to glow.

Then thick smoke exploded beneath her hand, hissing out between her fingers and the cobblestone in a black gust. In an instant Artemis felt the air grow hot and ashen, the force of Oseely's magic – of [i]her[/i] magic – stinging her eyes and pushing against her clothes. The alley overflowed with smoke, black clouds bursting up above the roofs of the buildings lining it and down along the cobblestones, spewing out around corners. 

Artemis took off from where she was crouched, sprinting to where she knew the alley opened up. Her footsteps were frantic, but still silenced from the runes on her feet. Her lungs were already constricting with the need for air, her breath held captive in her throat. Coughing echoed through the smoke and Artemis ran into the men at the edge of the alley. They shouted and coughed as she felt them knock against her. One even managed a clawed hand around her arm for one heart stopping moment before she wrenched herself free and hurried on. 

The alley opened up into more smoke, but at least it was less thick now. Her vision was still black, but she could see different shapes and depths to the darkness. It lead her around a corner and out into a bustling dock. 

Wide eyed people stood still, giving her alarmed stares. Artemis released the breath she'd been holding and panted, skidding to a stop. 

[color=darkturquoise]"Help!"[/color] she shouted, her voice wavering and strained after holding her breath for so long, [color=darkturquoise]"There was an explosion in the alley! People are still in there!"[/color] Technically both of these statements were true.

Immediately the crowd sprang into action, many of the more altruistic people rushing past her to help those supposedly in need. That chaos would keep the black-hats busy, at least. The rest of the people were split between frantically trying to finish up their work, getting away from the alley, or gawking at the ocean of smoke that had apparently sprung from the stonework. Which was also true.

Artemis hurried forward, further into the dock. A person or two tried to check on her, to see if she was alright, but she waved them away. She was certainly glad she'd changed clothes before this whole debacle. Her stolen outfit was less cumbersome and distinct now: a pair of sensible dark pants (that actually fit her rather well, she was happy to find) and a long (too long, despite her height) navy blue trench coat over her own top. The scarf on her head might've been an odd touch, and if anyone looked at her wrapped feet they might've had questions, but all in all it could've been worse. And Artemis wasn't currently in a position to be picky. 

She moved with purpose further into the crowd, hoping to lose herself between so many people and boxes that no one would recognize her as the one who'd shouted the alarm. It didn't take long before the people around her were back to work, carrying boxes on and off the dock, tying boats down, and best of all, ignoring her. 

Artemis walked forward with quick steps, looking like she knew exactly where she was going and what she was supposed to be doing. As she moved her eyes darted between people and their materials. Swords, spears, shields, traps, and…

[i][color=darkturquoise]Ooh, shiny.[/color][/i]

There was a box of glowing blue crystals that could only be trouble. Naturally, Artemis swiped one with tricky (sticky – there was still persimmon juice on her) fingers as she walked by, never slowing. It fell easily in the pocket of her new coat. She absently adjusted her bag on her shoulder as she moved along. It'd be wise to get out of the city soon, she knew. She'd move to a new part of town, as of yet untouched by her, closer to where Nura was hopefully still waiting, get whatever else she could, and leave to… where?

Oseely's cave? That seemed as good a place as any to set up camp. He might even show up there again. Maybe she'd just burn some stuff if she wanted him. Because she sure as hell wasn't doing all that other shit he said.

And so Artemis hurried through the dock, trying to make her way east, back to where Nura was. She'd stowed the gryphon in the shadow of some sort of orchard, empty of fruits and berries and, best of all, people.

It was time to get whatever last supplies she could and leave.