It was the third time Cadence had gotten lost in this particular part of the city, which made her paradoxically somewhat skilled at it. She knew, generally, that once she lost her way, if she just followed the street numbers going up, she'd meet up with a major road and that would lead her somewhere more familiar. One of these days, I won't make it home before the sun comes up ... she thought to herself, angry and somewhat ashamed.

Her usual method didn't seem to be working, though she couldn't explain why. She was certain she should've found the major road by now, and she stopped at a dark and somewhat deserted corner to try to get her bearings. While standing there, looking around confused and dumbfounded like a lost tourist staring up at buildings and street signs, a sound came from an alley nearby. It was whimpering, soft at first, but with a steady pattern that grew in intensity.

Yelp.

Yelp.

YELP.

The last whine was so loud and the pain behind it so horrible, Cadence needed to know what was causing it. As she rounded a corner into a dark alley, with not a sound or sign of life in any direction, the scene revealed itself to her. A man in his late 30s, disheveled, holding a whiskey bottle and smelling like he'd poured it on himself rather than drink it, was kicking a mutt cowering against the side of a building.

Stepping forward, she cleared her throat as loudly as she could, trying to maintain her composure rather than rip this man limb from limb.

"The fuck you want, bitch? You got a problem? Huh? Mind your own fuckin' busi --"

The drunk finally turned towards Cadence. All the color ran out of his face, and his words stuck in his throat. The face he was greeted with was a nightmare, a gnarling vicious thing, with eyes black as a void, swallowing his every thought, its mouth a gaping red maw stealing his every breathe.

The man did not scream. Cadence could detect the scent of urine, however, as the man finally broke his stunned silence only to flee whimpering to himself into the night. As he did, the Daeva dropped her monstrous countenance with a sigh. "Pathetic," she said to herself.

The soft yelping continued, but less frantic now. Cadence knelt beside the poor beast and stroked its matted fur. The man had broken several of its ribs, and she could see in the dim light of the alley that the dog would likely not survive the wounds. Gently and with great compassion and sorrow, she leaned down to the dog's neck.

Right before she bit down, she whispered, "Hush now, sweetie, hush. It'll be over soon."