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Zacharias Smith (unspeakableness) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

A sound not far off caught Zacharias's attention, and his first instincts at that moment involved fleeing. He went with it, jumping off the bench, gliding to the ground, and hurrying to the nearest building. More people meant more chances to be snatched up or worse; he could get stepped on.

He scurried up the wall, straight into a patch of shadows, and paused to look back down over the alley. He watched the pair of witches laughing not far off, secretly thankful to them for coming outside just when they did. They didn't look like a threat, not really, but he still hadn't wanted to take the chance. He then looked at that man who'd given him the orange slice, momentarily wondering if he were alright. He could have sworn he saw a grimace on his face just before the witches had stepped out onto the street, but he couldn't be sure just then. Not that he could do much about it either way. He was, what, twelve inches long? Not very helpful in his current state. With that in mind, her turned and scampered as fast as he could up and around the side of the building, his thoughts turning to warm blankets at hot chocolate at home.