The Watch patrol moved along the street like scattered ghosts.  Pale white figures in the predawn dark. White capes, white leather jerkins, and leggings.  A tall one bent nearly double skulked along the wall, peering into the alleys and down the spaces between three and four-story buildings of red stone or brick braced with wood, then crossed to the other side to do the same.  “Ffffffff!”

The group stopped, turning to the bent skulking figure.

“Ffffft!”  a hissing sound from that one.

“Whistle idiot!" said one in the middle of the street.  The others chuckled.  “Light.”

“Me no can, Blenum, sir.” said the skulking one, the voice was high-pitched and squeaky like a rusty hinge.

“Keep trying monster.” replied the man.

“Yes sir.”

The lit torch was suddenly bright and near blinding in the dark narrow street, held up by a stocky Dwarf.   Red brown-haired and braided beard, wearing chain-linked armor under the white cape of the Watch. Two humans stayed in position watching up and down the street.  A lithe dark-haired, pale grey-blue-skinned elf stood by the dwarf. 

Blenum walked to the alley where the bent one now stood upright, towering over the others at just over 2.1 meters. Squinting red eyes reflected the light. The broad dark muzzle with leathery dark nose projecting forward. Tawny brown fur, with black spots in ring patterns, tufts and clumps sticking out from the white leather shirt and covering the head and neck.  A dark mane stood up between large rounded ears.  The human looked up to the creature standing a head and half taller, pale hazel human eyes meeting the Ghenid's red. He had light brown skin, thick eyebrows, a strong square chin on a clean-shaven face.  “What do we have Dracna?”

“Blood, fresh. Body.” 

Blenum looked in the alleyway and then turned to the figure behind him. “Svarta, can’t you and Wage see in the dark like the Ghenid?”

The girl turned. Black-haired, the gaunt figure gave him a bored look with her violet eyes. “I let the dog do the sniffing.” she said. The dwarf shrugged.

“Me no dog, Elf!” came Dracna’s high-pitched growl.  

“Wage, light here please.” Said Blenum motioning the dwarf over.

A black-furred body lay in the narrow alley amongst the trash and debris.  Blenum carefully slid along the wall, waving his hand to Wage the Dwarf to follow.

“Bugbear.  They kill each other all the time, the filthy beasts.”

“Ask around? Witnesses?” asked Dracna, nodding, head and ears down as she gazed at the body.

Blenum laughed.  Shaking his head. “Bugbear? In Monster town? No one cares. Filthy monsters. No one will report it.  No loss. We’ll alert the body wagon to haul it to the poor pit. No one ever claims the body.”   

To Dracna the thick metallic blood smell filled the narrow space, fighting with the stew of rotting garbage and stale urine. Blenum did a quick search for pouches, belts, coins. Dracna wiped her mouth with the back of a furred hand. Swallowing. She thought that the old way died hard. In the tribes, where she was from the body is just meat. The salty metallic taste of the blood. The words of the Clan Matriarch echoing in her ears. “We do not do this here. Civilized and not cannibals.  Still the monsters to them. Do not give them more cause to hate us. Leave the dead untouched. The meat is unclean.” 

Blenum stood, tucking something into a pouch on his belt.  “Dracna, you stay and watch the body. Have a bit to eat, monster, still warm maybe an hour or two old. No one will miss it.”  He laughed.

She shook her head silently, eyes flicking from figure to figure of the Watch patrol. Wage looking back disgustedly. Dracna still found it hard to follow them sometimes, with their flat faces, no tails, and immobile ears 

Svarta blew her a kiss as the squad moved out along the street.