The clamor of metal caught one passerby’s attention, and while Lionel had learned a long time ago that poking around at every noise in this neighborhood could land you in trouble, he couldn’t help but worry. What if someone was in trouble? It was his duty as a Disciple to step in and protect the weak, after all. He lived his life by those guidelines, ignoring the street smarts Miles had spent years trying to drill into him.
With a hand gripped around the hilt of his sabre, he cautiously stepped into the alley, his body as taut as a bowstring. And then he exhaled, visibly relaxing—it was a woman he vaguely recognized from the neighborhood. His mouth pinched into a frown as he took stock of her appearance, and when he spoke, his voice was tinged with concern. “Do you need any assistance, ma’am?”