Make myself small, make myself quiet. Evade pursuit. He'll find me. I know he will.
But I can have this first.
Solitude and sea air, and the damp of the fog.
The stone of the wall is rough-hewn; it snags my skin as I trail my fingertips across it, turn my head seaward. Wide enough to lie on. For me, if not for others.
I am small. I am powerful, I am exalted. But here, I am so small.
Behind me, my city. Behind me, the Carnival District... my Hounds on the streets, a mockery of the Kirayth. Behind the Carnival District, the park, the Houses, the coffeeshops and the farmer's market...
Behind all of that, the wall. A perfect circle circumscribing my world.
Beyond the wall, another world. New York and Paris. Greece. China. The places I see on television, but can never visit.
They will never let me leave.
Never, never, never.