Night's darkness loomed and shrouded deeds, both good and evil alike. Demanding of every man's adaptation to its existence, it did.
Either they learn to use it or suffer the misuse by others.
Such an instance, as clear as day, happened inside Lorenzo's mansion. When the clock's hand struck twelve, a shadow began to creep.
It snuck around, evading prying eyes, allowing no guards to notice its presence. The entity slithered and squirmed up the vertical wall. Its one goal was the gathering of information.
It neared a room and looked through its window; then, a woman appeared, arranging a cabinet. Not the aim.
Another failure, still. It consistently swerved and probed until it encroached upon an escalating argument.
"I am only irate at your false and scheming attempts at trickery. And I have lost nothing," the entity heard a shout, filled with frustration and doubt.
