Alicarde followed the Strigoi with his eyes locked onto the creature, its grotesque form moving swiftly through the night, expertly avoiding detection.
The city lights barely touched its twisted figure as it leaped from one shadowy corner to the next, its long, twisted limbs carrying it with a clear sense of purpose.
Every few moments, the creature paused, its head jerking around to check its surroundings, wary of being followed.
Alicarde kept his distance, his breath steady as he observed, tracking its every move. The vestments he wore, enchanted for concealment, were finally coming in handy.
The Strigoi's path led it into a narrow alley, and Alicarde waited on the rooftop above, expecting it to reappear on the other side.
