Perak, Old Night's imp, licked at the blood and bird feathers that were matted to his wet palm. Old Night did not take the recent news well. Old Night loathed living in the sewers, but yet....it was the only safe haven for a wretch like him. Perak's wings spread out, fanning the air, lifting himself before Old Night. The imp's head swiveled side to side, serpent like, and then, as if having recieved some unverbal command, some form of intangible communication, the imp concealed himself within an illusion and flew towards the abandonned tunnels.
Old Night remained in the Drain, nostrils flaring, one eye sewn shut with molding stiches, as his one working eye rolled back into his head as he entered a transe. Dry cracked lips parted and spoke words slowly as droll began to fall to the Drain floor, "Two....eyes are blind....to what....third eye....pryed wide.....doth sees."
