Damia/Loch | Warehouse district
By daylight, the warehouse district maintained a perfect illusion of respectability. The smugglers and small-time gangs that prowled the area by night stayed well out of sight while the sun was in the sky. Wandering into the dark alleys may be flirting with misfortune, but altercations rarely happened out in the open.
The pained yowl caught Loch by surprise, an omen of trouble. She turned to see Damia stumbling out of a warehouse, her face bloodied, and behind her a male guard folded over himself, no doubt lamenting that his line would die with him. No loss to the world at large, considering his looks.
Loch smirked. "Tad early to be out doing society favors, innit?"
Her hand dropped away from the hilt of her concealed weapon as subtly as it had come to rest there.