The Unseen

The night shrouded two boys running through the streets. An entourage of men followed them with upmost hast, trying not to lose them in the shadows that hid them. That, however, proved difficult, as the only article identifying them from the darkness were their dirtied hospital gowns.

The escapees made three rights, turning back in a circle and losing their pursuers. The shorter of the two cried quietly to himself, his raw wrists bleeding.

"You're bleeding," the taller one said quietly. The victim said nothing, and merely sniffled quietly.

The older put a finger to his lips, and tore the sleeves off of his own garment. Balling them up in his hand, he squeezed the rags of cloth as they began to turrn into a black dust. The younger's eyes widened in amazement, but still he said nothing. The dust then wrapped around his wrists where they were cut, but it didn't hurt the boy. It soothed the pain, and he rubbed his bandages in disbeleif.

"Better?" the taller asked. The quiet one nodded, still saying nothing. The taller smiled, keeping an owl-like watch as their pursuers passed, giving up. The wounded stayed in the corner as a lost kitten. He fell asleep by the time that the owl had known the area to be secure.

The kitten awoke, panicked, but the owl calmed him. For the first time, the lost kitten got a good look at his rescuer.

His blue eyes were as peircing and calculating as his manner. Behind the mild mask he presented, the kitten could see a flicker of sorrow, as if the owl had gone to great measures to hide his past and keep it tamed.

The drowsy one felt himself again dozing off, his head nodding sleepily. The owl picked him up, cradling him as an infant, and vanished into the night.

Another pair watched from above, observing all that had happened.

"We should report this," the less human one advised to his companion. She nodded, flipping her hair off of her shoulders. The creature rested a hand on his shoulder, and both disapeared in a cloud of smoke.